


Don't It Feel Alright

by patientalien



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Ahsoka Didn't Sign Up For This, Blood and Torture, Forced Addiction, Gen, Nobody Obi-Wan Kills Dies, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Past Torture, Pharmacological Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-10 17:36:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7854604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patientalien/pseuds/patientalien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The start of the Clone Wars and technically being dead aren't enough to stop Granta Omega from continuing to play his twisted games with his favorite victim. And despite being a Knight and General in the Grand Army of the Republic, some enemies are too much for even Anakin Skywalker to handle alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags. Please. This is an exercise in the most horrific things that could be crammed into a fanfic. I'm serious. 
> 
> I've been working on this for about three years, I'm about 20k words into the writing of it and finally have the wherewithal to keep working on it until it's done. If it's ever done. Maybe I'll just keep writing it for eternity. 
> 
> Title from Medication by Spiritualized

"I saw you die." 

The words come out slightly strangled, without the bluster and bravado he has become known for over the course of the War. If this were Grievous, or Dooku, he would know what to expect. He knows what to expect from this foe, too, and the knowledge makes Anakin's skin crawl.

Granta Omega chuckles ruefully, circling him. The man remains unremarkable in the Force, but his physical visage is now marred by a starburst scar that radiates out from his left cheek, across his face, bisecting his left eye and turning it a milky white. Evidence of Obi-Wan's attempt to subdue their enemy. "Did you, really?" Omega asks, voice silky, reaching out to caress a strand of Anakin's hair. "Knight Skywalker," the enigma chuckles. "Master Skywalker, even." Omega positions himself directly within Anakin's admittedly limited range of vision. "You've done well for yourself, haven't you?" This time, the caress is down Anakin's face, the lightsaber burn scar, the place on his neck where his braid used to hang. "And how is Obi-Wan?" he asks, and Anakin bares his teeth. Always the end game, revenge against his Master, achieved by bringing Anakin low. "Will he come to your rescue now that you are no longer his responsibility? Or will it be your own Padawan?"

The thought that Omega might bring Ahsoka into this sick game sends a jolt of fury down Anakin's spine. The inhibitor around his neck keeps him from manifesting the rage, but he still snarls, "Keep your filthy hands off of her." 

Omega rolls his one good eye. "Tsk, tsk, Anakin," he scolds lightly. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Anakin doesn't like the sound of that one bit, but he knows the more he reacts to the idea of Omega doing anything to Ahsoka, the more tempting the prospect will become, so against every screaming fiber of his being, Anakin stays his tongue on the subject. 

He isn't sure what is going to happen. He has an idea, of course, based on experiences he would much rather forget, but familiarity rips through him, a sense of anticipation - a near-excitement, sings through his veins. He'd thought, after Omega's apparent death, he'd gotten over that, but it's back again, crawling under his skin, aching to be satiated. "You're not going to accomplish anything," he snaps. Except Omega already has: Anakin is quietly, privately, coming undone, and though he would never admit it, to Omega or anyone else, he knows it means Omega has already started to weave his web of destruction once more.

His captor chuckles again, drawing a finger down the side of Anakin's face. "I think we both know exactly what I will accomplish," he says, perceptive even without the Force. "And I think I'm tired of this small talk." He gives a predatory smile, made even more sinister by the taut pull of scar tissue. "I suspect you are as well." He reaches up with both hands and unfastens Anakin's belt. Chained as he is, Anakin can merely pull on his bonds while Omega tears away his tabbards and tunic, leaving him bare-chested and feeling exposed. "Well," Omega murmurs. "Our time apart has certainly been kind to you."

He doesn't know what to say to that, to the obvious, appreciative leering. As a Padawan, he would have had a smart comeback, an immediate retort. Now, he has other things to consider: protecting Ahsoka, escape. He's not an impudent teenager any more, but the promise of what Omega has always offered brings back unpleasant sense memories. Instead of speaking, he scowls.

 

Omega takes his silence as an invitation to reach down the front of his pants, stroking his cock, smirking when, despite himself, Anakin half-hardens. "So you do remember," Omega purrs. "I was afraid you outgrew our little games." He tightens his grip, and Anakin bites back a moan. He can't count on anyone coming to his rescue now; a Knight and Master, he alone is responsible for getting himself out of this mess, which means he needs to keep his mind clear. 

With Omega, though, that is never an option, and even as the thought crosses his mind, Omega has withdrawn his hand, wiping it across Anakin's bare chest. He remains silent, crossing the room, and Anakin has to make a conscious effort to tamp down on the sudden rush of craving that courses through his veins. No, he has to fight back, he can't let this happen again because if he does, he might never get away. 

A shiver runs down his spine as Omega returns to his side, the familiar and almost-welcome hypo-spray in his hand. It has been years, but something inside Anakin aches yearningly, which jolts him into action, pulling violently against his chains, kicking and pulling and using every ounce of strength he possesses. "No!" he shouts, because he doesn't want this. He never has. This is a physical reaction to a memory of dependence, not true desire, and he needs to get away. He manages to pull one manacle loose from the wall, then the other, but the collar around his neck is making things difficult, his grasp on the Force slippery. He pushes Omega up against the far wall, but it is a mistake: a hiss and a cold burst against his flesh wrist are his only warnings before he and reality part ways.

 

\-----

Wrists bound behind his back, knees aching from kneeling for so long, Anakin comes back to life with the freezing-cold splash of his head being forcibly dunked in a barrel of water. For a brief moment he is sure he is going to drown, but just as he registers what has happened, he's yanked out again by his hair. "Awake yet?" Omega asks. Anakin shivers, but isn't sure how to form words just yet. Everything feels sluggish, disoriented, the room's angles too sharp, the colors too bright, garish. It hurts his eyes. He blinks. "Good boy," Omega says, stroking back his wet hair. The man's touch feels good, soothing, though Anakin knows he needs to fight again now that he's starting to regain his ability to think. He thrashes weakly, only to have his head and upper shoulders shoved back into the icy water. He almost makes the mistake of breathing in, but manages to remember himself just in time, gasping and coughing when he's unceremoniously pulled out again. 

"S-stop," he stammers, teeth chattering, blinking rapidly and trying to clear his blurred, distorted vision. Omega's hands send warm pulses through his body wherever they meet his bare skin - completely naked now, he recognizes vaguely - and he arches towards the touch in spite of himself. "Please." The fact he is begging makes him sick to his stomach. Anakin Skywalker does not beg. He does not grovel. He does not throw himself prostrate before a captor to plead for some kind of reprieve. He is a General in the Grand Army of the Republic, and he does not show weakness. 

But Omega isn't a Separatist, isn't an insurgent or bounty hunter. He does not hold to the same rules of engagement, and Anakin knows that while his chances of escaping a Separatist trap are excellent, his chances of wrenching away from Omega's clutches unscathed are far more tenuous. He has no idea how long he has been here already; this is the first time he's been wrenched from semi-consciousness in such a matter, but it's the fifth - maybe sixth - time he's been able to start thinking through the fog. The in-between times are a complete blur of desire and pain and vivid, horrifying hallucinations. He remembers screaming, remembers the sensation of being full - everywhere. Now that his body is no longer completely numb, he can feel bruises, bone-deep. He needs to get away, while he still can. He has the thought each time he comes back to himself - but right now all he can do is beg for a rest. A real one, not drug-induced, though physical craving has him shaking and sweating already. 

"Please." He's not sure what he's asking for anymore. 

Granta Omega complies anyway, pressing the hypo against his wrist and making his pain disappear. 

\-----

Being the apprentice of the Hero With No Fear, panic isn't really part of Ahsoka Tano's training. She understands urgency and worry, but panic has been wiped clean from her consciousness. Still, she feels an unfamiliar and unpleasant fluttering in her chest whenever she thinks about the fact her Master has been missing for over a month, now. She's still not sure how it happened; one minute he was there, and the next he was gone. That's what it had seemed like, at least. The Council has luckily allowed her and Master Obi-Wan to look for him, but she's starting to be afraid that they might never find him. She can't even sense him in the Force, and she knows Master Obi-Wan can't either. "Where are you, Skyguy?" she asks the black vaccuum beyond the cockpit viewport.

Space, of course, doesn't answer.

\-----

"Again."

Anakin shifts into his knees, tilting forward, hands and forearms braced against the cold floor, presenting himself for entry. He grunts slightly as Granta Omega fills him, but he doesn't mind. It's not real, none of this is, really. Just like the snowflakes falling in the periphery of his vision, just like the serpents slithering around his bare arms, the violation isn't real. He goes along with it, because it's easier that way. If he doesn't, the world gets scary.

"Good," he murmurs, tongue thick in his mouth. He's tried to bite it off more than once; it takes up too much space. His mouth tastes like blood. It is good, the taste of blood and the sensation of Omega inside of him, thrusting against his prostate, fingers twined in Anakin's hair. He knows, sometimes, that this isn't right. That he is more than whatever he is now. But memory is a slippery thing, and he's not sure anymore. Omega thrusts deeper, and Anakin moans, guttural and pained. Some things even his medicine can't take away.

In however long he has been here (days and nights blur together and he can never tell anymore), he has learned how to be obedient. He's sure the Masters on the Council would be shocked to see him taking orders, subservient and deferential, but the Council has never whipped him until he bled, has never sprayed him with a high-pressure hose of icy water, for the slightest transgression. They never withheld food and water for days because of his attitude. Most of all, though, they have never held the threat of withdrawal over his head like a guillotine of agony, the unspoken knowledge that Omega can - and will - cut off the supply of drugs that have become Anakin's only salvation in this place if he stepped out of line making him far more docile than mere physical pain. 

It makes him sick to his stomach, the idea he has sunk to such an extreme, but this is about survival. He just needs to survive long enough to escape, and he can't think about escape unless his head is clear. At the beginning, that meant in between the doses. Now he finds clear thinking is hard to come by regardless of time or circumstance. Everything twists together, forming new realities, and all there is beyond the veil is pain and mortification.

Even though he knows he is Anakin Skywalker, and knows he is better than this, he gives in at the sound of Omega's voice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get worse before they get better.

Their first and only clue as to Anakin's whereabouts comes in the form of a coded transmission to Master Obi-Wan. They are in the mid-rim, cleaning up a Separatist listening station (the war doesn't end just because her Master is missing), and when Master Obi-Wan sees who the sender is, his mouth becomes a thin line and he retreats into his quarters before viewing the message. He does not invite Ahsoka to watch it with him, and when he emerges looking pale and more shell-shocked than Ahsoka has ever seen, he will not divulge what he has seen. She trots behind him as he makes a bee-line for the Bridge, her heart pounding hard against her ribs because she has never seen Master Obi-Wan so uneasy, has never felt such turmoil in the Force from the normally-serene Jedi Master. "Where are we going?" she asks after the silence is nearly enough to drive her mad.

Obi-Wan does not turn to her, keeps his eyes forward as he continues his quick strides. "Telos," he replies tightly, offering no further explanation.

"What's on Telos?" she prods, hoping he will say that it is Anakin, that he is there and okay, and the stress she senses is because he's just run off without saying where he was going. It's unlikely, wishful thinking, because that isn't like Anakin at all, and if that were the case, Obi-Wan would have just said so.

She can feel the razor-sharp crack of Obi-Wan's strain as he replies, "An old enemy." Which doesn't mean much to her; she's long since learned that her Master and Grandmaster have many enemies. 

"And Anakin?" she asks, frowning, jogging to keep up now.

This time Obi-Wan does turn to her, slightly, not breaking his stride. "I certainly hope so," he says, and lapses into silence once more.

\-----

It's hazy and at first Anakin thinks he is still hallucinating, because what he sees just doesn't make sense. Omega has returned from a brief respite, carrying with him two thick, sharp metal hooks and offering a smile that would look more at home on a krayt dragon. "Skywalker," he says, and his tone is curious. Anakin struggles to stand, but his head spins and his stomach lurches and every part of him feels liquid. He sinks back down as Omega comes closer.

"Whassat?" he hears himself say; between the jaw stiffness from Omega repeatedly and unceremoniously shoving his cock in Anakin's mouth multiple times a day and the sedating effects of the drugs, he's started to have a very hard time keeping his words clear. 

Omega's smile widens into a grin. "I want you to live up to your name," he explains, but as far as Anakin is concerned it's a terrible explanation. Omega comes closer, runs a hand through Anakin's filthy hair, and slides a hand up his cock. In anticipation, Anakin's body responds, but Omega merely tsks at him. "Not yet," he scolds

The first hook comes as a complete surprise, entering the flesh of his chest just above his right nipple, sliding through muscle and skin to come out again, the hook dangling now from his chest and blood streaming down his front. It takes a moment for the pain to appear, and by the time it does, the second hook has been positioned beside the first. Anakin stares at Omega; the violation is confusing, and he's still not sure it is real. The pain is, though, but he does his best to ride it out. Soon enough the hypo will come out again and take the worst of the pain away.

He kneels in the center of the room that has become his world these past months (months? He isn't sure entirely), shivering, teeth clenched, hands clasped tightly in front of him, waiting for the next torment. He knows better than to ask for the relief the drugs will bring; the last time he did, Omega withheld them for a day and a half until Anakin felt like he was going to die. He won't make the same mistake. 

After what seems like eternity, Omega flips a switch on the wall and a set of thick chains lowers, each with a device at the end designed to attach to the hooks now embedded in Anakin's chest. Omega makes quick work of it, and gives Anakin another smile as he flips the switch again and the chains begin to retract into the ceiling.

At first Anakin isn't sure what is happening, is only aware of pressure and pain and the feel of flowing blood, but then he realizes he isn't touching the ground anymore, that he's hanging suspended by the chains and hooks, that he can hardly breathe. This isn't the floating meditation Barriss Offee practices, this is entirely physical, and for the first time since being taken captive, Anakin feels true and utter hopelessness. He tilts his head back and lets the tears fall. 

\-----

Narrowing their search down to Telos is not the immediate solution Ahsoka had hoped it would be. For one thing, it is still an entire planet, and they have nothing besides that to go on. Secondly, as Obi-Wan has pointed out, half the planet belongs to Granta Omega - or at the very least his family, which makes things even more complex. Ahsoka is almost ready to resort to some aggressive negotiations with planetary officials, but Obi-Wan's presence holds her back from displaying some of the less Jedi-like teachings passed down from her Master. 

For his part, Obi-Wan is managing to keep his emotions in check, as he always does, while working with a variety of contacts for any kind of clue. He even makes a long, private comm call away from Ahsoka (and like the message he'd received, he does not share the content with her), and that is what seems to turn the tides. "Warehouses in the capital city," he informs her, tucking his comm back in his robes and running a hand over his hair, disheveling it slightly. "I wasn't able to get anything more concrete than that, but it's certainly better than nothing." He sounds tired, like Ahsoka feels. Obi-Wan has known Anakin far longer than she has; they are practically two halves of the same person. Though he's doing well to hide it, she can only imagine how he must be feeling. She knows how she is feeling, at least. Knows too how Anakin would be feeling were roles reversed. Still, Obi-Wan is right and now their search has considerably narrowed. She just hopes that Anakin will still be there when they arrive.

\-----

The pathetic mewling noise is coming from him, Anakin realizes blearily, trying to scrabble at the chains holding him off the ground. He's too weak, too doped up, and his hands can't find purchase so he dangles there, chest heaving because it's become so hard to breathe. He's decided that he is going to die here; no one is coming to rescue him, and Omega is like a spoiled child - once he has broken a toy, he will merely throw it away instead of tending to it. 

Anakin knows, somewhere in the recesses of coherent thought, that he is very close to breaking. And since he is Anakin Skywalker, and since he has no desire to leave this galaxy on anything but his own terms, he raises his left wrist to his mouth and bites down. The pain doesn't even register, not past the hurts all over the rest of him. He continues biting, tearing at the flesh, working towards the vein, hitting it finally with a rush of hot blood in his mouth. 

He spits onto the floor and lets his arm dangle. Everything starts taking on a hazy glow, better than the high of the drugs, warmer than the dunes back home. He feels his body start to convulse and is dimly aware of hitting the ground with the sounds of flesh tearing and a sickening crack. Because he is Anakin Skywalker, and this is his choice, he closes his eyes.

\-----

The montrals on a Togruta serve many purposes, the most obvious of which is a form of echolocation more sensitive than even the most sophisticated sensor equipment. Ahsoka can tell without anything more than a tilt of her head that the warehouse in front of them, unlike the others they have investigated, is almost entirely empty. "I think it's this one," she murmurs to Obi-Wan, though there is currently no reason to keep her voice down. It's the weight of things, the idea that her Master may be in there and she has no idea why or if he is okay. A prickling sensation down her lekku give her the notion that all is not well, but she could have told herself that weeks ago.

Obi-Wan nods, and slips his lightsaber off his belt. "Be cautious," he warns as she follows suit with her main 'saber. "Granta Omega is a very dangerous man."

The fact Omega has had her Master for months now is testament to that, though Obi-Wan still hasn't seen fit to tell her much about the man, nor about the history the three men share. She hasn't had the heart to press the matter, not yet anyway, not until after she knows Anakin is safe. "I'll be careful, Master," she assures him. She knows she is often compared to her own Master in terms of her reckless streak, but this is different; she won't do anything without the utmost certainty that it won't do more harm to Anakin. 

Obi-Wan sounds pained as he responds, "See that you do." This merely strengthens her resolve to get better answers once this is all over, but in the meantime she follows him to a recessed door, reaching out with the Force and all her other senses to try and get a read on what may lay beyond.

Everything in the galaxy has some kind of presence in the Force. Any living being, no matter how endowed with midichlorians, can be sensed, even if it is merely a ripple. Droids, too, to an extent, can be sensed. What Ahsoka feels when she extends her power into the warehouse is a void, a black hole, absolute nothingness where there should be something. "Do you feel that?" she asks. 

Obi-Wan's lips press together tighter than she's ever seen them. "It seems we are in the right place after all," he tells her, and waves a hand over the locking mechanism of the door. There is a tight grinding and the door slides open. Still without activating their weapons, the two Jedi enter, Obi-Wan taking the lead; Ahsoka can feel his concentration, his senses seeking out any trace of Anakin.

Ahsoka, though, senses it first: the sound of someone choking on something. It's faint, but she follows the sound to a cordoned-off area, held secure by a locking gate. The choking noise is interspersed by moans now and Ahsoka smashes the lock open with the Force as quick as she can. She knows it is Obi-Wan's place to enter before her, but she can't help darting ahead, recoiling violently as the smell of the place hits her like a physical blow, the pain in the Force making her knees weak. She straightens, determined to focus, and manages to see her Master curled up on the hard duracrete floor, a widening puddle of blood forming around him. Ahsoka activates her comm immediately, summoning the Clone company waiting on standby for just this moment. She kneels beside Anakin, Obi-Wan joining her for a brief moment. "I'm going to look for Omega," he informs her, barely looking at Anakin, choking and sobbing on the floor. 

He's gone before Ahsoka can protest - she supposes she understands, but as far as she is concerned, Omega can wait. Anakin needs her. "Master? Skyguy?"

He doesn't respond and then Ahsoka sees the hooks on the floor, is able to make out the trauma to the flesh on Anakin's chest, the violent tearing of his wrist. There are other injuries too, she senses; the backs of his legs are sticky with blood and for the first time it registers that he is completely naked. She winces slightly as the implications of that sink in, and she reaches out a tentative hand.

He won't respond, stays huddled in on himself, inhuman sounds tearing from his throat every so often. "Master, it's me," she attempts. "Say something, please!" He doesn't seem to recognize her voice, and is losing blood fast, so she focuses instead on getting him covered with her cloak, checking his vital signs. "It'll be okay, Master," she murmurs.

"Please... please..." She thinks she hears her Master say, but she's not sure what he's asking for. It feels like forever before the Clones arrive, and Kix and Rex are finally by her side.

"We'll get him evac'd to the shuttle," Kix assures her as he begins his preliminary assessment. "It's all right, General," he says as Anakin tries to arch away from him. Bacta patches are slapped on his chest, a few spots on his legs and face. When Kix gets to the wound on Anakin's arm, he pauses for the briefest moment. "I don't think he thought he was getting out of here," the medic comments without a hint of judgement in his tone. 

Ahsoka furrows her brow, not understanding. When she asks, Kix points at the jagged edges of flesh, wrapping it in bacta-soaked gauze as he does. "Teeth marks, Commander. General Skywalker did that one himself."

Ahsoka's stomach drops and she feels like she might throw up; she doesn't have time to think about it right now, she reminds herself. She needs to make sure Anakin makes it back home and then she can think about what has happened and what she will need to do to help him recover. Right now, she needs to get him to the shuttle so she nods tightly. "Let's get him out of here," she orders. 

Kix and Rex settle a breathing mask over Anakin's face, slide a backboard under him, lift him together as they've done a dozen times before - but not like this, Ahsoka thinks, following them, protecting their path as they start the first steps of bringing her Master back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin begins the journey home.

\-----

Obi-Wan meets them at the shuttle empty-handed, a deep scowl etching his features. Ahsoka doesn't ask what happened; it's clear the question would not be welcome at the moment. With Kix and Coric tending to Anakin - they'd ushered her out quickly once they'd gotten him settled in the shuttle's small med-bay - Ahsoka takes it upon herself to get them in the air. The sooner they get to Coruscant, the better. "How is he?" Obi-Wan asks, settling into the co-pilot's seat. 

Ahsoka grimaces. "I'm not sure," she admits softly. She has some idea, saw the worst of the wounds, but there were others she knows are there, and she has no idea his mental state. "He's really out of it - Kix and Coric are looking him over." She wants to be back there with them, wants her Master to know she's there, to know he has support, but she has a feeling some of what the medics are discovering aren't things Anakin would want her seeing. She'll find out, she'll make sure she does, promises herself that she will be there every moment hereafter for Anakin. He's her best friend in the galaxy, her mentor, and she loves him despite teachings to the contrary (though it would be hypocritical of him or Obi-Wan to scold her on the matter, considering how attached they are to one another). She'll get him through this.

"I see," Obi-Wan replies tightly. "You did well," he adds, almost an afterthought, as if scrounging for something to fill the silence. 

Ahsoka finds she cannot take her eyes off the controls; she doesn't care about her own performance, she just cares about getting back to Coruscant. She tries to come up with a response befitting a Jedi Padawan, but she can't, so just says, "Thank you."

\-----

It's cold here, and everything hurts. It's brighter than where he'd been before, but Omega probably just turned the lights up once he realized how badly Anakin has been hurt. Probably preparing to finish the job Anakin couldn't, the usefulness of his plaything gone. He'd thought he'd heard Ahsoka, and at least one Clone, but he's not stupid: he knows he's gone into shock from blood loss and the trauma to his chest, Ahsoka's presence was nothing more than wishful thinking. 

Hands probe at his wounds and he tries to slap them away, but his wrists are fastened to the bed frame. "Lemme go!" he demands, not as much strength behind it as he'd like. "I'll... do... 'Ever you..." If he's going to die, if Omega is going to finish him off, he doesn't want to die chained to a bed. With a hard yank to the restraints, he curses whatever had alerted Omega to his suicide attempt - he'd been at peace with it, then, and now he has to fight again and he's not sure he has the strength for it. He can feel the first icy tendrils of withdrawal starting amidst the rest of the discomfort, and he tries pulling again.

"It's all right, General." Omega's cruelty is unimaginable, pitching his voice to sound like Kix's, trying to lull him into a false sense of security. The face Anakin sees when he opens his eyes is Kix's as well, but it's what he wants to see, and he knows his mind is just playing tricks again. "You're safe now, Sir. We're heading home." The hand that had been checking his wounds flattens against his abdomen to try and still him. "Stay calm, Sir."

"Can't you give him anything?" It's another Clone voice, simply a manifestation of Anakin's desire - no, not desire. Need. 

"His tox screen is off the charts," Omega replies in Kix's voice, using words Kix would use. "I can't right now." He's pitched his voice to sound sympathetic, apologetic, to fool him. He looks at Anakin from Kix's face. "You'll be all right, Sir." 

Realizing that Omega has no intention of dropping the act, Anakin slumps back against the pillows and closes his eyes. 

\-----

Ahsoka can hear screaming coming from the medbay, a horrible inhuman sound that makes the sensitive skin on her lekku prickle with unease. It barely sounds like her Master, that voice, the hoarse keening wails that permeate the air of the shuttle. Obi-Wan is in there, and Ahsoka wants to be with him, but her Master's Master had said, "There will be time enough for that," and left her alone in the hallway. 

"Nononononono! STOP!" Begging, pleading, and Ahsoka has never felt quite so helpless or anxious in her life. Her Master doesn't beg. He doesn't scream. Whatever the war throws at him, he brushes off like so much dust. His agony in the Force is immense, and she can't even try to make sense of it. It's hurting her, too, so she puts up her shields - just a little - and waits until Obi-Wan reappears, ashen and trembling slightly.

"What's wrong?" she demands immediately, putting herself between Obi-Wan and any kind of retreat from her question. "What did Omega do to him?"

Obi-Wan sighs, runs a hand over his beard and through his hair, dislodging the usually pristinely-combed strands, making him look slightly disheveled and much younger and more human than he normally does. "I think it's time we had a talk, Ahsoka," he says after a long moment, voice tight. 

 

He leads her to the sparse sleeping chamber; two bunks and an alcoved desk, little else. She perches on one of the bunks and he takes the chair, weary in a way she's never seen. "Granta Omega is the son of Xanatos du Crion," he explains, "who was my Master's apprentice before me. Without belaboring the point, Xanatos left the Order in disgrace, and swore revenge upon Qui-Gon. His son, then, swore revenge upon... well... me." The guilt weighs heavy in his voice as he continues, Ahsoka leaning forward in rapt attention. "He took an interest in Anakin when he was still my Padawan, and I had thought..." A sigh. "I had thought I'd killed him."

Ahsoka furrows her brow slightly. None of this sounds remotely hopeful; Anakin and Obi-Wan have many enemies, but this sounds much more personal than any of those. "Granta Omega deals in torture of the most heinous nature, purely for the fun of it. He..." And here Obi-Wan closes his eyes, and lowers his head. "Anakin has been..."

She can guess. She saw the blood on his legs, the dehumanizing nudity, the bite marks on Anakin's wrist from his own teeth. She doesn't make Obi-Wan say it. "I know," she offers.

Obi-Wan looks only mildly surprised by the admission, but nods slightly. "Omega also has a predilection for utilizing mind altering chemicals. The last time..." Another deep breath. "Very dangerous, and highly addictive both physically and mentally. The combination of torture and the drugs makes his victim..." She notices that he doesn't say 'Anakin', that he is distancing himself from the situation. She doesn't comment. "Well... it makes it so he is able to maintain a high level of control."

Ahsoka shifts uncomfortably. "But Anakin will be okay, right?" she asks, prodding, trying to keep the desperation from leeching into her voice. Of course he will be, he has to be.

"I honestly don't know."

The words are like a punch to the chest, and Ahsoka draws in on herself, the uncertain future looming ahead of her like a great weight.

\-----

 

Captain Rex considers himself fairly unflappable. After serving as the 501st's second in command (besides Commander Tano, of course) for the past year and a half, he mistakenly thought he'd be prepared for anything. He is not, however, prepared to see his General writhing in agony on a medbay cot, arms strapped to the rails, screaming whenever anyone comes near him.

To Rex and the rest of the 501st, Skywalker is a rock. He leads from the front, commands - and earns - their unwavering loyalty and gives it back to them in return. He is the greatest soldier Rex has ever had the pleasure of knowing, and nothing has ever slowed him down. He doesn't even seem to recognize them, now.

Kix had told him that Skywalker had been drugged to the gills and tortured, which Rex supposes explains some of it, but there's more Kix - and General Kenobi and Commander Tano - aren't saying. Rex isn't used to being out of the loop; Skywalker believes in transparency with his men. It's a disconcerting feeling, and it only gets worse the closer they get to Coruscant because Rex isn't sure a few days with the Jedi Healers are going to give him his General back this time.

\-----

They keep saying they're landing at the Temple. Someone does - Omega? He's not sure anymore. Things are becoming a little more real, but the pain is making it hard to concentrate on what is truth and what is the product of his fevered imagination. He pleads for relief, though none comes, even with his promises of what he can do to make it worth their while. 

Kix - or Omega in Kix's skin - pushes him down again. "That's unnecessary, Sir," he says, doing an excellent job of sounding horrified by Anakin's attempts at some kind of seduction. "Please stop." He's beginning to think maybe all of this is really happening, because surely Omega would have taken him up on the offer by now. 

The idea that this IS real, and that his men are witness to his utter degradation, makes Anakin's gut clench. Still, he can't quite stop himself from his reactions, from the violent shivers and desperation. And the fact the Jedi Healers - if that is truly where they are heading - will see this as well, will hold sway over him and his freedom just as much as Omega - makes him quite literally vomit. He wants to go home, but he's terrified of it.

\-----

Kix cleans vomit off the General's chin, careful to avoid the healing bruises as much as he can. Skywalker's face is flushed, though from fever or shame Kix isn't sure. Knowing the man, he'd wager a combination of both because it's not just the puke Kix has been cleaning up; Skywalker has lost control over most of his bodily functions as infection and withdrawal keep his nervous system otherwise occupied. Kix would feel better if he were able to properly medicate Skywalker, but with the tox screens still coming back positive, he can't risk it; he can't even get a proper read on what's working its way out of Skywalker's system, though whatever it is is all sorts of nasty.

"We're docking at the Temple now," he informs Skywalker, checking vital signs, making sure he's at least stable enough to move. He is, but barely. A bacta tank will definitely be on the agenda in the coming days, and Kix sure hopes the Jedi Healers can make some sense of what seem to be deep routed hallucinations. 

Skywalker tugs at the restraints again, moaning. "No, please no," he begs, though Kix couldn't say why. Embarrassment? Fear? The belief that perhaps none of this is really happening? "Don't wanna..." Skywalker gags and Kix shoves a basin under his mouth to catch the bile that comes up. 

There's a jolt as the shuttle lands and Kix starts to switch the monitors and other devices to their portable modes. "It'll be better for you there, Sir," he explains, though trying to talk sense into the man has been like talking to a brick wall. 

"NOT better," Skywalker snaps, flicking his fingers in frustration. "I hate you!"

Kix sighs and continues his work in silence.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being home isn't a solution.

Ahsoka peers through the frosted glass window of her Master's room in the Halls of Healing, trying to get even just a glimpse of him. She knows he came out of the bacta tank today, Obi-Wan had told her that much, at least. Still, she hasn't been allowed to visit, and has been told in no uncertain terms by Vokara Che that her presence is unnecessary. Well, Anakin is her Master, so she's pretty sure her presence is very necessary. Why is Anakin allowed to hang around here when Obi-Wan is sick or injured and she isn't? 

The door slides open and Ahsoka jumps away, not wanting another lecture on attachment. Instead of Vokara Che, though, it's Obi-Wan, lips pressed together, arms folded in the sleeves of his cloak. "I suppose it's pointless to try and keep you away," he comments. 

She nods once, crisply. She is her Master's Padawan, after all. "How is he?" she asks, edging towards the door and trying not to be obvious about it. 

"Physically he's fine. The bacta did its job." Obi-Wan folds himself into his cloak a bit more and adds, "Mentally, he has some ways to go. The Mind Healers say they should be able to help, though." He doesn't sound confident. "Ahsoka... The reason you haven't been allowed to see him..." A hand appears from the fabric to rub his beard. "He isn't entirely in touch with reality, and some of what he is saying may be disturbing for you to hear." 

She squares her shoulders and juts her chin up. "It's okay," she proclaims. "I need to be with him." Just as he would be there for her, or Obi-Wan, or anyone else he cares about.

Obi-Wan sighs, but gestures towards the door. "He's not himself. Just... remember that." He sounds hesitant, concerned, but Ahsoka assumes he also knows she's not exactly planning on going anywhere. "I have to meet with the Council, but if you need anything..."

She nods again, and scurries into the room.

\-----

Anakin is alone in the room when Ahsoka enters. He looks up at her, offers half a wary smile. "Snips." His voice is incredibly hoarse, barely a strained whisper, but the fact he makes the effort tells her that maybe Obi-Wan is wrong about him not being himself. So far, he seems very much like Anakin always has been. 

"How are you feeling?" she asks, perching on the chair beside him, brushing her fingers gently across the back of his hand. The muscles there jerk and twitch, but he doesn't pull away as she'd almost expected him to. 

He gives a one-shouldered shrug, the off-white tunic he's been given to wear slipping down a bit to expose the sharp jut of collarbone that hadn't been quite as extreme the last time she'd seen him. "Okay," he croaks, but she still can't quite feel him in the Force and she's not entirely certain he's telling her the truth. Still, he doesn't seem different - just like he'd been rescued after multiple months of torture. "Thanks. For coming after me." He reaches up and tugs at a strand of his hair - okay, that's a new gesture, but she'd been expected so much worse; a new nervous habit hardly seems like the worst that could have come of things. "I'm sorry you had to, uh, see what you saw." Which means he knows she knows about the rape, at least. Or maybe he just means having to see him in the aftermath of a suicide attempt - his left wrist is still bandaged, which means either the wound hasn't fully healed, or the Healers don't want him seeing the scar yet. 

"I'm just glad you're back," Ahsoka replies instead of addressing any one thing she's seen directly. She's very glad he's back, in fact, so much so that she's afraid to admit it out loud because it absolutely reeks of attachment of a very dangerous kind. She wants to kill Omega for what he did, and that, she knows, is not the Jedi way. "Do you need anything?" She doesn't want to leave, wants to make herself useful - the room is almost entirely bare, surely he could use some kind of creature comforts for however long he's supposed to be cooped up. 

He stares at her for a long moment and tugs at his hair again, twisting the strand around his finger and pulling, then moving onto a new strand. It makes him look twitchy, which is not something she's used to. "The cart in the hall," he rasps, "can you grab me what's in the top drawer?" 

Ahsoka furrows her brow slightly, but nods, darting into the hall. The drawer he'd indicated is locked, which seems odd to her. If there's something he needs in here, there shouldn't be any reason for it to be locked. Waving a hand to dislodge the locking mechanism, Ahsoka feels her breath freeze in her chest when the drawer slides open.

Row after row of narcotic-filled syringes stare up at her and suddenly Ahsoka understands exactly what Obi-Wan had meant. It takes her a long moment to regain her bearings, the idea that Anakin had just lied to her - or at the very least asked her to be complicit in something harmful - makes bile rise in her throat. She closes the drawer, locks it once again, and takes a deep centering breath before returning to Anakin's room.

"I couldn't get it open," she says softly because she's not going to accuse him of anything and have him shut her out. "I'm sorry." Not sorry she's lying, but sorry that she has to lie at all. Sorry whatever has been done to him goes so deep beneath his surface that he'd ask such a thing of her so quickly.

Anakin's expression shifts slightly - he'd been looking somewhat eager, but that slides quickly into annoyance and he closes his eyes for a brief moment. "No big deal," he replies, as if it's the most normal thing in the galaxy. His eyes open again and he gives her a quick smile. "Thanks for trying." 

The fact he doesn't realize she's lying says more to her than his actual response and she feels a chill run down her spine. Perching herself on the chair beside him, she tries to shake off her discomfort. He hasn't been back very long, and has only been fully conscious for a few hours. She can't be angry about this, can't allow herself to be disheartened. He's her Master, and her responsibility, and as long as they stick together they will weather this storm.

\-----

Obi-Wan doesn't come back to visit after the first day, but Anakin is okay with that. Obi-Wan brings with him memories best left buried deep, a promise of further pain. Because all that Omega does is for Obi-Wan's benefit, or so he'd been told, and Anakin is tired of being the bait. 

He knows better than to vocalize any of this, to the Mind Healers who have tried to get past his shields, or to Ahsoka who dutifully keeps him company hour after hour. He doesn't ask her to fetch anything for him again; it was unfair to do it the first time around, and the last thing he wants is to make things harder on himself. Still, the desire is there, prickling his skin and making him edgy, making him snap at her when he doesn't mean to, making him almost reach out to offer her what he KNOWS he really shouldn't (she's so young, and his Padawan! But hadn't he entertained fantasies of his Master at her age?). 

Still, he makes a show of getting better, because the longer he's in the Halls of Healing, the less peace he's able to find within himself. He's growing agitated and fearful and he needs to simply get out from confinement. He's been confined for far too long.

Ahsoka picks up on his moods, perceptive as she is, and petitions to have him released into her care. She promises to keep an eye on him, as if he's not an adult and her Master and capable of taking care of himself - he knows she disagrees with the Healers about his capabilities, and that gives him a sense of relief. At least one person around here isn't treating him like a fragile piece of glass. Finally, the release is granted and he's back in his own apartment, staring at walls that are at once familiar and completely foreign.

"I made tea," Ahsoka's voice cuts through, and he follows her to the sitting area. He knows he has to have medications in here somewhere, kriff, even some crap Alderaanian grass would be welcome at this point, anything to temper the voice in his head telling him that Omega escaped, and nothing he or Obi-Wan or Ahsoka could do will ever keep him truly safe. The same voice admonishes him for being a coward in the same breath, and it's all he can do to keep from screaming. 

Her hand on his arm does make him jump slightly, but he manages to slow his breathing, sit with her. Focus on the here and now, he reminds himself harshly. Focus on Ahsoka. Focus on getting back to her training. "I hope you haven't been getting lazy with me gone," he comments as she pours the tea.

She snorts. "Hardly," she snips back. "Though I'm pretty sure you're going to need some practice in the training salles." It's a cheeky retort, one he'd expected, and one that's likely very true. He doesn't want to take her up on the obvious offer, though, not just yet.

"Probably," he agrees, and leaves it at that. The silence that descends is comfortable, but the insistent voices that take its place moments later are not. Anakin fights through it, feeling altogether isolated despite the presence beside him. 

'Should have tried harder to die,' the voice informs him, and Anakin stands abruptly, blinking. Ahsoka is at his side in an instant, asking if he is all right and all he can say is, "I'm fine. I need to go for a walk. Clear my head."

He hopes she won't follow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin struggles, Ahsoka worries, and Rex isn't sure exactly what is going on.

Ahsoka gives him a five-minute head start and then runs to catch up with him. There's a nagging sense of wrongness in his statement about wanting to clear his head, and she's not exactly keen on letting him wander around alone so soon after his return. It's not that she doesn't trust him, but with Obi-Wan gone, he's kind of her responsibility.

She catches up with him at the main doors of the Temple. He's just standing there, clenching and unclenching his fists, grinding his teeth, but otherwise not moving. "Skyguy?" she prompts, reaching out to put a hand on his arm, and he jumps away from her with a sharp intake of breath. 

"I'm sorry," Anakin says immediately, and she can see every muscle in his body quivering with the adrenaline response. "I... should have sensed you coming." He doesn't protest her presence, which is somewhat unexpected, but his voice is tinged with deep regret. 

Ahsoka shrugs nonchalantly; she can tell Anakin doesn't want anyone making a big deal out of his reactions to things. She's seen it in the Halls of Healing, the way his expression darkened whenever the Mind Healers posited reasons, or suggested solutions. She knows her Master: in his mind, he should be well again immediately, and doesn't like any reminder that he isn't. 

Well, fine. She'll play that for now. "Want to go to the gardens?" she asks instead of commenting on his statement. He likes the gardens, she knows, goes there sometimes when he bothers staying around the Temple when they're on Coruscant. 

It takes a long moment, but he nods. "Yeah. Sure." She can sense the effort it takes for him to agree, and can't help wondering where he'd been planning on going instead. The more hopeful part of her assumes it would have been to see Senator Amidala; the part of her that remembers his request of her the first day he was out of the bacta senses an altogether different motive. 

She follows behind him half a pace as they make their way towards the gardens; private, secluded, and fairly empty most of the time - and today is no different. She settles onto the ground beside one of the squat trees, and after a moment he joins her. "We could try meditating?" she offers. 

Again, whatever is going on inside Anakin's head shows as a tightening of his expression. "Doubt I've gotten any better at it," he comments. It's meant to be a joke, but the tone is flat. Still, they arrange themselves into the traditional posture, kneeling across from one another, hands resting lightly on their thighs. She watches Anakin close his eyes and take a deep breath, then allows herself to sink into the Force, reaching out for his presence within it. 

It's usually so easy; he burns like the brightest star within the Force, and is impossible to miss or ignore. Right now it feels like he's shielding himself, cloaking himself, and while he's still undeniably THERE, the vibrancy she's so used to is missing. Gently, she tries to ease away some of the shielding, tries to chip away whatever is keeping him from her. 

He withdraws so abruptly and violently that the psychic backlash gives her a headache. Her eyes snap open, thrown from the meditation entirely by his unexpected response. He's got his knees pulled up to his chest, head buried, shoulders heaving. "Master?" she asks hesitantly, not daring to reach out and touch him. "Master, are you all right?"

He's not, that much is clear, and when he raises his head she can see tear streaks, which he hastily moves to wipe away. "Fine," he chokes out. "I'm fine." He stands, brushing off invisible debris. 

"Master!" she exclaims, springing to her feet, but he's already walking away. She supposes she should count herself lucky that he goes straight back to their quarters, but he locks himself up in his room and she doesn't see him for the rest of the day. 

\-----

Sleep is elusive. It always has been, really, but now it slithers away from him like a shadow. When Anakin does manage to fall asleep, to escape the thoughts tumbling over one another in his head, he's almost immediately besieged by memories that make him tear awake screaming. He's always had nightmares, but these are worse: these are real. Hanging in the air by his own flesh, the freezing water baths, the violation. None of these are fabrications of his overactive imagination, all have left their indelible marks on him.

And that, then, is the crux of the problem: that he is still burning where the marks touched him, that he hasn't recovered mentally the way he has physically, that jumping at shadows has become part and parcel of his day to day life now. And he hates it, every second of it, because he's Anakin kriffing Skywalker, the Hero With No Fear, and he KNOWS he's better than this. He knows he should be able to just go back to life before his capture, banish any memory of it to the back of his mind, because he's a Jedi and he can't be a Jedi if he can't function. 

Ahsoka sticks close to him, either out of worry or pity he's not sure. She doesn't treat him much differently than she did before, and he's grateful for that, but he wonders if she realizes just how Not Right he is now. 

It's this thought that has him lying awake now, staring at the ceiling, cringing at the darkness, the expectation a hand will reach out and grab him keeping his nerves alight. He knows exactly what will cure the fears, what will make him - if not completely normal, than at least able to feel like it... But he knows he can't - well, shouldn't - because he's already setting such a horrible example for Ahsoka, he's already failing as her Master, and he's not sure he can fix that. Fixing it would mean vocalizing what is wrong, and he isn't sure he can. 

In fact, he knows he can't. "Kriff!" he exclaims, springing from his bed, pacing, raking hands through his hair. Everything feels wound too tightly; everything itches and aches and he KNOWS he can fix that part, at least... But he can't, he shouldn't, he can't expose Ahsoka to that, to fail her even worse than before. 

But maybe Ahsoka doesn't need to know. Reaching out with the Force, he assured himself that she's asleep, and quietly pulls on his boots. Masking his presence as much as he can, he slips to the door, the guilt weighing down like the heaviest of cloaks. 

No one stops him as he walks out of the Temple and into Coruscant's night. 

\-----

79's is ostensibly, a location catering solely to Clones. Besides Kamino, it's the only other place in the Galaxy that Rex can think of where Clones are the majority. That's not to say civilians aren't allowed within the walls of the bar near the barracks, but with very rare exception, he'd never seen anyone's face here but his own.

Tonight is one of those rare exceptions, apparently. The face Rex sees is not a typical civilian, either - which makes it even more of an exception. Even those Clones who don't know him personally know him by sight - the Jedi robes and lightsaber on his hip dead giveaways regardless. General Skywalker waves off their confused salutes and heads directly towards the bar, taking up residence on a stool beside Rex. 

"General," Rex greets him, a bit wary. The Jedi as a general rule didn't fraternize with the troops off the battlefield. Though Skywalker has always been a little more casual about things like that, even he has never been here before. That he is here, while they're all grounded until he's deemed fit for duty again, makes Rex a little uncomfortable for reasons he can't pinpoint. 

Skywalker nods in acknowledgement and orders a Corellian spiced ale. Realizing Skywalker isn't in the mood to chat, Rex bites down on the urge to ask how he's doing. Kix and Coric are still being maddeningly tight-lipped about what they know, but Rex doubts he'll get more information directly from the source. They sit and drink in silence; Skywalker polishes off two ales and is on his third - this one with a whiskey chaser - before he finally speaks. "I'm going to be petitioning the Council to be released to active duty as soon as possible," he says.

Rex isn't sure what to say to that. He'll be glad to be back out in the fight, at least, and glad to know that doing so means his General has recovered enough to lead them once more. Still, there's a bone-weary exhaustion in Skywalker's eyes that suggests perhaps all is not as well as either of them might hope. "Good to hear, General," he decides to say. Rex wants to ask how he's feeling, if when they're back out in the field if things will seem normal again, because right now what they're doing here does not feel normal. 

Skywalker merely nods again. When it becomes clear that he doesn't care if Rex is there or not, the clone captain excuses himself and heads over to where he can see Kix and Coric in a small group from the 501st. "Is that General Skywalker?" Kix asks, peering over Rex's shoulder. 

"Yeah," Rex replies, glancing over as well. "Medical opinion?"

Kix and Coric glance at each other. "No medical reason he can't be here," Coric says. "You think there's a problem?" 

Rex sighs. To speak like this of their commanding officer feels highly uncomfortable, but so was finding Skywalker with his wrist bitten open, unable to distinguish reality from fiction. "Dunno," he replies. "I've never seen him here before, that's all." They all watch as Skywalker flags down the bartender. 

"There're some free seats over there," Kix points out. It's his way of suggesting they keep an eye on their General as a group; not confirming or denying that anything is out of the ordinary, just keeping alert, like they're supposed to.

Skywalker acknowledges them, but doesn't say much more. Despite it growing late, Rex doesn't want to leave until he does - and he can tell the others feel the same. Finally, Skywalker stands and counts out a considerable number of credits onto the bar. "Sorry for my intrusion," he says to Rex, voice surprisingly clear for as much as Rex had seen him drink. "I needed to get away from the Temple and..." He stops himself, and shrugs. "Anyway, I'll let you know how the Council meeting goes."

He's gone before any of them can respond.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Council makes a decision.

\-----

Ahsoka wakes up feeling groggy and disoriented. The first thing she does, though, as has become her custom each morning, is to reach out to sense her Master's presence within the apartment, to assure herself that he is still there. This morning he seems more muted than usual, but nonetheless still there. 

It takes a shower to clear her head, but soon she's feeling more like herself and heads into the apartment's communal space to see if Anakin is up yet. He's never been much of a morning person, but lately he hasn't been sleeping at all; it's not unusual for him to be up before her now, sitting on the sofa and staring at nothing until she appears and they play at being a regular Master and Padawan team for a while. This morning, he's on the sofa but splayed out, boots on, head tilted to the side, mouth slightly open. He's snoring softly, and it's almost kind of adorable and if she didn't think he would kill her, she would take a holo of this moment. Instead, she covers him with a blanket, recognizing with a start the smell of whiskey on his breath. No wonder his boots were on. 

She wants to wake him, to reassure herself that he's fine, he just went out for a drink - not entirely unheard of, and nothing to exactly be concerned about. But her mind keeps going back to the narcotics cart, his request, Obi-Wan's warnings about Granta Omega's tactics, and she's torn. She's been trying so hard to keep things on an even keel for him since his return; shaking him awake and demanding answers probably won't help matters. In the meantime, she can tell through the Force that he's merely asleep - not passed out or unconscious - and his breathing is steady. All is well, she tells herself. She'll ask when he's awake on his own accord and in the meantime... Well, he needs the sleep, however it came about. 

"Talk to me, Master," she whispers to his still form. "I miss you."

\-----

Mace Windu isn't overly surprised to see Anakin Skywalker on the agenda for the day's Council meeting. The boy had been back from Telos for a little over two weeks, and out of the Halls of Healing for five days. Windu is merely surprised this hasn't come up sooner, knowing Skywalker as he does. "He's going to ask to go back into the field," he informs the rest of the Council, though he's sure it's pointless - they all know Skywalker too.

"Vokara Che has deemed him physically well," Ki Adi Mundi points out. 

Physically well and mentally well are two different things, though. "She also says he still has work to do with the Mind Healers," he says. "And that he has not been attending those sessions." Windu almost can't blame the boy; he isn't fond of the Mind Healers himself. Still, emotional stability is necessary on the front lines, and while Skywalker skirts the edges of that at the best of times, Windu also knows how dangerous moving too quickly on this could be. 

"Stubborn is Young Skywalker," Master Yoda offers thoughtfully. "Proud. His pride, wounded it is by his capture. Desire to turn things back to normal he does." 

Again, Windu can't blame him. The reports from the Healers, from Padawan Tano, and from Obi-Wan, had been intensely troubling and disturbing. The Korun Master can only imagine what it must be like for Skywalker, who has never been skilled at releasing his emotions into the Force. "Then perhaps this should be a lesson in patience," Windu replies. "And in accepting help when it is offered." A lesson sorely needed. 

Skywalker is sent for and is soon standing before them. He is shielding, but even so Windu can sense the turmoil, the discomfort. He looks like he hasn't slept in weeks. "Masters," Skywalker says, giving them a slight bow. When he straightens, his expression shifts to one of confusion. "Where's Obi-Wan?" he asks.

Windu sighs; he's not thrilled that Kenobi had left without informing Skywalker of his mission, but the boy had still been in the Halls of Healing, half delusional, when the decision had been made. "He is currently on a mission," Windu says, leaving out the part where the mission is to track down, capture, or kill, Granta Omega by any means necessary. 

Skywalker grunts. "Oh." Then his attention shifts again. "I'm here to request a return to active duty. I'm needed on the front lines, and I'm feeling fine now." The slight waver in his voice belies the truth of his words.

Windu leans back in his chair. When it becomes clear none of the rest of the assembled Council is planning to speak, he realizes that he must once again be the spokesman, the bearer of news Skywalker doesn't want to hear. "The Mind Healers have not yet cleared you for duty," he says. "Until then, you are to remain here and take advantage of their services."

Skywalker bristles, clenching his fists and jaw. "That's unfair!" he exclaims. "I'm fine!" As if having an outburst in the middle of the Council chambers proves anything. 

Windu spears him with what he knows to be a very intimidating glare. Anakin Skywalker, however, has never been easy to intimidate and the boy glares back. "Made our decision the Council has," Yoda says finally, if only to break the impasse. "When release you the Healers do, return to the front lines you may."

Skywalker seems to make a great effort to keep from arguing. Instead he squares his shoulders and bows again. "Thank you for your time," he murmurs, almost but not quite stifling the edge of sarcasm. He's out the door again in a flurry of dark robes and once he's gone the air in the Council chambers doesn't feel quite as oppressive.

"We will need to monitor his progress," Windu says softly. There was something lurking there behind Skywalker's otherwise normal-seeming facade, and the last thing he wants is for this test, such as it is, to backfire. 

The rest of the Council is in agreement, and the talk turns to other matters, Anakin Skywalker seemingly forgotten, at least for now.

\-----

By the time he returns to his quarters, Anakin is seething. How dare the Council! How DARE they! Maybe he should have explained himself better; nothing the Mind Healers can do would match the benefits of going back to the front lines. He feels alive there, and at the very least would be able to put his attention elsewhere. Ignoring Ahsoka's concerned look, he locks himself in his bedroom, hurling his lightsaber across the room and hearing it hit the wall with a satisfying clatter. 

Anakin Skywalker doesn't like to show weakness, but he makes an exception this once and crouches down while he weeps.

\-----

"I want to try something." 

Anakin jolts to awareness at the sensation of someone else in his room. The shadows are elongated, the edges dulled and unreal. A dream, then, maybe. The cold bite of something - several somethings - being pressed against his bare chest. "Leave me alone," he moans, because dream or reality he just wants to sleep. 

"I don't think so, Anakin." It's Omega, and Anakin chokes out a protest because this can't be real. It can't be. He escaped - was rescued - isn't there anymore. 

But what if all of that was a delusion, a hallucination, like he'd thought it was from the beginning. What if this is the truth, this game, this torment. A shiver runs down his spine, and he struggles to get away from the hands groping at his skin. "No."

Omega chuckles. "I want to see how well your training has worked," he explains, and the hands disappear for a moment. "These devices are set to monitor your heart rate. Go above a certain level, and..." A whirring noise and pain blossoms everywhere at once, electricity making his muscles spasm and clench. He thinks he hears himself screaming. 

The pain subsides. "See?" Omega asks. Anakin nods helplessly, fighting his body to lower his heart rate, to calm his gasping breaths. A hand wraps around his cock and despite his efforts, the electricity flows again, unrelenting. 

He screams, and screams, and screams. 

"Master?" A voice now, through the agony. "Master!" Ahsoka's voice, but this can't be real. He doesn't know what is anymore, but she's shaking him and he can feel her hand through his tunic - he's clothed, then. This is real. The torture was a dreamed memory. He tells himself this, but he's not sure he believes it, even when he opens his eyes and sees her standing beside his bed, worrying her lower lip. "Master?"

He takes a moment to gather himself, mortified that he can feel sticky residue inside his pants. Is this it, then? Is this what he's destined to live with now? Memories that manifest themselves like reality, and torture that borders on forbidden pleasure? "I'm okay, Snips," he manages to grind out. 

Her expression tells him she doesn't believe him. "Really?" she asks. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands, calling his cloak to himself with the Force. He can't keep doing this, can't keep reliving those months over and over again, when the Council refuses to do the one thing - one useful thing - that will make it all go away.

He can make it go away. He doesn't want to, hates that he feels like this is the only option he has left, hates that Ahsoka is here to see his weakness. "Really," he replies firmly. "I'm going for a walk."

He hopes, this time, that she won't follow.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padme has always soothed him, surely it won't be any different now. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of surprised this has gotten as many hits and kudos as it has tbh. Thanks :)

Padmé. Being with Padmé will be safe. She has always soothed him, her presence a needed balm. Of course being with Padmé will help, and he's not sure why he didn't think of it earlier. Anything to keep from giving in to the urges that threaten to overtake him at any moment, anything to keep him from feeling like he is going mad. Padmé will help. 

Padmé... Is not home. He walks through her empty apartment, brushing his fingers over her things, breathing in her essence, trying to take comfort in the fact she WAS here, and will be again. Still, Threepio has no idea when she's supposed to be home, and there is only so far echoes of her existence will carry him. 

He thinks about running himself a bath, but when his brain helpfully reminds him how easy it would be to drown himself in her deep tub he reconsiders. Instead he stands in her fresher, staring at a reflection he barely recognizes, until he catches sight of a container of tablets next to her face wash. He picks it up, turning it over in his hands, recognizing the contents as sleep aids. Exactly what he needs: sleep. He shakes a couple into his palm and swallows them dry. 

He's not sure how long it will take the pills to work so he heads to the bedroom - their bedroom. Her lingering presence is strongest here, and he climbs into the bed he shares with her all too infrequently, pulling the covers tight around himself, not bothering to undress besides removing his boots. 

The pills work quickly, and soon he's feeling the embrace of sleep tugging at him, beckoning. For a few long, agonizing, minutes he fights it - the last thing he wants is to get stuck in a nightmare he can't wake up from - but soon exhaustion and despondency win out, and his eyes close. 

\-----

Threepio informs her she has a visitor the moment she steps into her apartment. Since said visitor is still here, Padmé knows it can only be one person. She tears into the bedroom only to find Anakin sleeping soundly in bed, chest rising and falling gently. She perches beside him and runs her fingers through his hair: her preferred method of unobtrusively waking him. He doesn't so much as stir. "Ani?" she whispers. Her heart is pounding with the excitement of seeing him, even if he's not awake. The Jedi - and the Chancellor's office - had been unexpectedly tight lipped about her husband's latest mission; all she knows is that he's been gone for months and no one seemed to have any idea where he'd gone. 

She leans down and kisses his forehead. Anakin shifts slightly now, letting out a breathy moan, brow furrowing. Suddenly his arm flies out and manages to catch her right across the chest, nearly knocking her over, and Anakin is screaming, rolled tightly in on himself, pulling at his hair. "Anakin? Anakin!" She's seen him have nightmares before, but never like this. She shakes him, yelling his name, imploring him to wake up, and suddenly he's sitting upright, arms wrapped tightly around her, sobbing violently into her shoulder. "Anakin, shhh, what's wrong?" She hopes he is honest with her; he hides so much from so many people. 

"Sorry," he gasps. "I'm sorry." He looks up at her with watery eyes. "Did I hurt you?" He sounds agonized. 

Padmé shakes her head. "No," she assures him. "Anakin, talk to me, please?" Their marriage is built on lies to others, the last thing she wants is for distrust to spring up between them too. 

Anakin shakes his head violently. "Just a nightmare," he replies. "This last mission was... it was rough. But I'm back, and I'm okay, and I'm sorry if I scared you."

"Tell me about it," she all but begs. He doesn't like to talk about the war when they're together, but he clearly has something on his mind. 

He stands, paces away from her, raking a hand through his hair and pulling on individual strands nervously. "I can't," he mutters. "I can't talk about it." Whether because the Council has told him not to, or because he himself can't find the words, he doesn't clarify. 

Realizing with a sharp sigh that she's not going to get any other information from him, she walks over to him, runs her hands down his back, embraces him and rests her cheek against his chest. "Dinner?" she suggests and he nods. 

Dinner turns out to be a rather uncomfortable affair. Anakin doesn't speak much, and drinks far more wine than she is used to him doing. Still, it's just good to see him again, to spend time with him, to know he is alive and relatively well. Once dinner is over, they head back to the bedroom. Almost as an afterthought she asks if he needs anything to help him sleep; her own medic had prescribed sleep aids several weeks prior as she's found herself lying awake night after night in fear for Anakin - and the Republic's - safety. She can certainly spare some if it will help. 

He screws up his face a bit, but accepts and washes them down with the last of the wine. She frowns, but can't judge. She's done the same, and something is clearly troubling him greatly. She decides that the first thing she does in the morning will be to call Ahsoka; she's not going to stand by and do nothing while the man she loves suffers. She just hopes Anakin will accept the help. 

\-----

The realization that even being with Padmé doesn't help feels like a cold hand wrapping around his insides and squeezing. He couldn't even bear to allow her to touch him; why would she want to, after everything that has been done to him? That he was complicit in being done to him. If she knew... But she doesn't know, he's sure of it. Still, her hand and Omega's hand blend together and he jerks away from her as she tries to caress him awake the next morning. 

She looks hurt, and that hurts too - he can't even keep himself from lashing out at the people he loves anymore because he has no idea what's real and what isn't. Pathetic. He wants to disappear into her soft sheets and never emerge; he wants to throw himself from her balcony. He wants the Galaxy to come to a screeching halt and turn back to before this all happened because if he can't use the war to fix himself, if he can't lose the trauma amidst the kind of trauma he can DEAL WITH, he's not sure what to do.

Except he does. It's the answer that has been beckoning since his first day out of the bacta tank, the answer that had provided the only relief when he was actually in Omega's clutches. The answer he KNOWS is a product of Omega's twisted games, but an answer that nonetheless is his last hope of regaining himself. He'll just do it for a little while, just to help him get back to feeling like himself again, then he'll stop. Easy, and no one would ever have to know. 

He's feeling almost better by the time he's able to get out of bed, a plan firmly fixed in his mind, now. It's a good plan, foolproof, and he kisses Padmé goodbye gently, and tells her he has to report to the Council. What's one more lie in the grand scheme of things anyway. She sounds wary when she replies, saying she loves him, asking him to come back to her soon, to stay safe. He agrees readily, because soon he'll be her husband again, and will be safe from himself if nothing else. 

He heads not to the Temple, but to the Orange district. He's not overly familiar with what to do in this particular situation; though he's not a stranger to mind altering substances, he's never truly sought them out in such a manner. It doesn't help that he's easily recognizable and soon he figures that the Orange district is still too close to the surface, too close to the Temple. He goes lower, where natural light does not penetrate, where it's harder to make out his features, and where beings don't ask as many questions. 

He doesn't know what to ask for, exactly. Glitterstim is out; it enhances the user's Force connection and that's the last thing he wants. Death sticks are a maybe - lower Force sensitivity, but he's not sure he likes the idea of taking years off his life span with each dose. He kind of wishes there was some kind of manual for this sort of thing, an instruction guide, anything. He thinks back to the few times outside of Omega's machinations that he's used hard drugs: Alderaanian grass doesn't count. Pyrepenol, maybe, he thinks because it's one he remembers the name of and remembers just how amazing he'd felt for the time it had lasted - he'd been a Padawan, then, freshly rescued from Omega and aching for relief. It had helped, until he hadn't needed it anymore, and that's what it will do for him now.

He hands over a sizable amount of currency to get a fair-looking supply, and heads back to the Temple and the peace he hopes will come next.

-


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin tries to find peace, and Ahsoka tries to get things to go back to normal.

Ahsoka wishes she could give Senator Amidala better answers. As it is, she has no idea where her Master's run off to, let alone what's going on in his head. She has an idea, and she knows the basics of WHY he's acting so strangely towards Padmé - because if she wasn't sure he and the Senator were intimate before, Padmé's line of questioning confirms it - but if Anakin didn't tell her himself, Ahsoka's sure its not her place to do so. So what she says is, "The last mission was tougher than he wants to let on. Give him time." Because her Master is Anakin Skywalker, and she's never seen anything keep him down for very long. 

Padmé nods and thanks her, and Ahsoka is left sitting in silence, wondering where Anakin could be - is he safe? Is he alright? - until the door slide open and Anakin saunters in. She's on her feet in an instant. "Where have you been?" she demands, trying not to sound like she's scolding him, or was too worried. She has an idea, anyway.

Anakin tilts his head at her. "Visiting a friend," he confirms, "not that it's any of your business, my young Padawan." The words are harsh, but the tone is teasing and a smirk plays at the corners of his mouth. He seems happier than he's been since they got back from Telos, and Ahsoka wonders if Padmé knows just what kind of effect she has on him. In a good way, this time - most of the time, she admits to herself.

"Don't tell me you never pestered Master Obi-Wan if he stayed out all night," she challenges, springing from the sofa to follow him into his bedroom. He eyes her a bit warily, but allows it, shrugging out of his robe and tossing his utility belt into a crumpled heap in the corner. 

Anakin snorts, easing his boots off now and kicking them in the same direction as his belt. "That assumes Obi-Wan ever stayed out all night," he comments. 

He sounds back to normal, Ahsoka thinks. Not skittish or morose, just... Anakin. The relief she feels is almost overwhelming, and she can't help but grin at him. "Want to go spar?" she asks eagerly. 

"Sure," he says and her heart soars. "Just let me..." A moment's hesitation. "Let me change and I'll meet you down there." 

She all but runs to the salles, excitement at the turn the day has taken flowing through her as readily as the Force itself.

\-----

She waits much longer than she'd expected to for Anakin to arrive, and when he does she's not sure what to make of him. He still seems in a decent enough mood, but there's something off, something she can't quite place. Still, he'd promised to spar with her, and he still seems willing - if the wild grin on his face is any indication - so they settle in to their familiar warmup routine.

Ahsoka has always loved watching her Master out of the corner of her eye when they warm up. His movements always seem so graceful, so centered in the Force, as though his lightsaber is an extension of himself. She watches him now, too, careful to keep her own movements in perfect unison with his. "It's been a while," she comments after a moment, breaking their peaceful silence. As soon as she says it, she fears her words are a mistake, that they will only serve to remind Anakin of WHY they haven't sparred in so long. 

He nods, blinking as if suddenly tired. "Yeah," he says. "It has been." His voice has gone thick and Ahsoka is certain she has ruined everything, but instead he moves out of the basic stance he's been working in and faces her. "What form?" he asks, twirling his 'saber. It falters slightly, and she almost winces, but has decided not to call attention to anything that might suggest he's out of practice. It's not exactly his fault. 

She considers his question; he hardly ever lets her pick the form they spar with. "Soresu," she suggests. It's not the easiest form, not by a long shot, but it's not quite as aggressive as his usual Djem So. Ease back in, she decides, without making it seem like she's easing him back in.

He scowls for the briefest moment, but then perks up again, bringing his blade up to Soresu's more common opening pose. It looks more at home on Obi-Wan, she thinks. "Ready?" he asks when she has similarly prepared herself. She nods. "Begin."

His footwork is sloppy, is the first thing she notices. He's faltering steps, giving ground where he shouldn't - where he normally wouldn't. They still are up at their normal speed, but she's tempted to slow things down to give him a chance to catch up. But no, that would force him to admit weakness, and she knows he's not going to do that. So she keeps on, advancing with both her 'sabers blazing, pushing him back towards the wall of the training salle.

He falters again, and it seems like his eyelids are getting heavy; she knows he hasn't been sleeping well, and had hoped the night at Padmé's would have helped, but he's clearly tiring fast. Faster than she had expected. The tickling 'off' sensation intensifies, and she stops short. "Are you okay?" She knows what his answer is going to be, but asks anyway.

Anakin nods, but lowers his own lightsaber and leans against the wall behind him. "Tired," he admits, which is something of a surprise. "Sor-sorry, Snips." He powers off his weapon and pushes himself away from the wall, stumbling slightly. 

Ahsoka draws her brows together, reholsters her 'sabers, slips an arm around his waist in an attempt to help him keep his balance. "It's okay," she assures him. It's the first time since he's been back, he's still recovering, and he actually admitted he couldn't continue. All in all, though it hadn't exactly been what she'd hoped for, she's can't truly say she's unhappy with how it has gone. 

By the time they get back to the apartment, Anakin seems like he's about to fall asleep where he stands. It's all she can do to pull his boots off before he is well and truly out, and she wishes things didn't feel so odd in the Force. "Thanks, Snips," Anakin slurs out as he curls up on his bed. 

She frowns, once she knows his eyes are really closed, and leaves the room, uncertain once again about what to do, or even if there is anything TO do. For now there isn't, and she feels suddenly very alone.

\-----

He feels bad for falling asleep on Ahsoka, but the sensations before that had been exactly what he'd been hoping for. Anakin knows he can get used to the sedating effects, especially if it means he can get back to normal now. It's certainly not the same as what Omega had given him, but he doubts he'll ever be able to replicate that particular effect. He's not sure he'd want to, anyway; it would be a reminder of what Omega had done, and he would really rather forget. It's hard to push it from his mind, to break out of his thoughts, to remember what is real and what isn't and in the training salles with Ahsoka he had finally felt like things in his mind were stable. 

'Careful,' he tells himself, preparing his next dose. He has to be careful, has to moderate, has to ration. He has a fair amount of credits in his discretionary account - normally used for things like undercover missions and other situations where he isn't able to get what he needs directly from the Temple. Still, it will be noticed if he starts burning through the funds while he's grounded. A little here and there won't make waves, but he knows he needs to be cautious. 

'Careful,' he tells himself again. Careful, because there are only three good ways of ingesting pyrepenol, none of which are without their dangers. He's chosen the quickest method, the way that will get it into his bloodstream the fastest, the way he knows he'll be able to hide amongst his other scars. If anyone sees - doubtful because he rarely wears anything that exposes him below the neck - he can easily excuse it. A leftover from Omega, or from any other mission. 

It takes a few moments to prepare the injection; melt the spice, draw it into the syringe, pull up his sleeve and by the time he's tied himself off he's almost shaking from the anticipation. 'Careful.' That's a warning sign, he knows. He's already made a mistake doing this, but this is the only way he's going to be able to move on so he forces himself steady and slides the needle into his vein. Depress the plunger and... 

Euphoria and he never wants it to end.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin slips a bit further and Ahsoka's just trying to help.

Days go by, and he feels better and better. He can't quite kick the sleepy befuddlement, and his skin has started to itch incessantly, but besides that everything is wonderful. Better, even, that before he was captured. There's a calm peace in his head now, thoughts quieted in a way he never realized was possible in such long stretches. He meditates easily - though it's less meditation and more letting his mind wander along the pathways of the Force. 

Keeping this from Ahsoka, though, is proving somewhat difficult. He catches himself slurring sometimes - just the previous day she had demanded to know if he'd been drinking - or nodding off mid-conversation, but it seems easy enough to waylay her concerns by saying he hasn't been sleeping well. For once, it's a lie; he's sleeping deeply, and without any trace of nightmares. 

Anakin knows that he needs to cut back a bit - he's running through his stash faster than he'd originally intended, and he hadn't exactly meant to... well, admittedly he's on a bit of a bender. But he deserves it, he's earned the right to turn off his mind for a while, to forget the pain and suffering he'd endured, to ignore the reason his left arm still sports a jagged scar that looks like a crime-scene bite imprint, that his chest muscles still ache fiercely when he thinks too hard about things. 

"Master?" It's Ahsoka, knocking on his door, jarring him into semi-awareness. 

"C'min," he manages, shoving his kit under the bed and standing, holding his arms out to catch his balance. He chuckles under his breath - get it together, Skywalker. The door slides open and she frowns at him.

"I think you should go see the Healers." The proclamation is enough to stun him into awareness, because the LAST thing he plans on doing is see the Healers until he knows he's good and ready - the next time he goes, it will be for Vokara Che to sign off on his request to return to active duty. 

He scoffs at her. "Why?" he asks. "I'm fine, Snips." His eyelids feel heavy and he forces himself to open them wider. 

Ahsoka scowls slightly. "Something's wrong," she informs him. "I... I've been minding my own business, but I think you really need to get checked out." She doesn't seem to know what IS wrong, though. Or if she suspects... Of course she can't suspect. He's been so careful. 

He clears his throat and resists the urge to scratch the back of his neck, skin crawling. He blinks, working to get her into focus. "Nothing's wrong," he insists. "I need to start sleeping better, but I have those pills..." Vokara Che's suggestion, apparently via the Mind Healers, made a few days prior, but he hasn't taken them. Steadfastly refuses, in fact, because Jedi medicine just isn't the same. 

"So take them!" she exclaims. "You have tools to help yourself and you're not doing it!" She sounds frustrated; he can't blame her. She's grounded as much as he is, after all. 

He lets out a sharp sigh, and summons the bottle of tablets to his hand with the Force. He shakes two into his palm. He's not sure how good of an idea it is to take them with as much pyrepenol as he's taken, but if it will get her off his back for the time being... He took those pills of Padmé's with a couple of bottles of wine and hadn't suffered more than an unpleasant hangover. "Here," he says, swallowing them dry, "happy?" 

She doesn't look happy, but she nods. "I'm just worried about you," she says with a sigh, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. They stand silently, and Anakin can feel the pills start to mingle with the pyrepenol, pulling him into a dark void, tunneling his vision. He blinks again, grabs the edge of his work table. 

"S'okay," he says, and gives her a wan smile. "I'm... gonna... try to sleep now..." It feels like it takes an eternity to get those words out, like time has stopped and expanded, and it's been years that he's been standing here. 

His apprentice nods slightly. "Okay," she acquiesces, and years and years later she leaves the room and it's all he can do to get to his bed before unconsciousness claims him. 

\-----  
The pills and the pyrepenol combination, Anakin realizes when he wakes up a full forty standard hours later, is not a good one. There's dried vomit down the front of his chest and on the sheets, and the bedclothes smell like urine and sickly-sweet sweat. He wads them and his clothing up in a ball and tosses them down the laundry chute before Ahsoka comes in and realizes exactly what had happened. His mind is still fuzzy, movements jerky and uncoordinated, and it takes an awfully long time to shower and get dressed again. It occurs to him, distantly, that he probably almost died, but it's a fleeting thought, and not one that he feels warrants further examination. Still, he shoves the pill bottle in the back of his 'fresher cabinet, just in case he forgets the lesson. 

"Feeling better?" Ahsoka asks when he emerges. "I... I left you alone, it seemed like you really needed the sleep." She sounds a little guilty when she says it, like she thinks she should have checked up on him, but Anakin is glad she didn't. No questions that way.

"S'okay," he replies, pulling open the cooling unit, letting the cold air wash over him, relieving some of the lingering sweaty, feverish, sensations, the incessant itching under his skin. He's not particularly hungry, but he also can't remember the last time he'd eaten anything. If he doesn't eat something, Ahsoka might start in on THAT, and the less attention he calls to himself, the better. "I'm feeling a lot better," he adds after a long moment, realizing she had asked him a question. He looks up and offers her a smile. It occurs to him that he's sober for the first time in days and he really is feeling okay so far... Besides the creepy-crawlies up and down his limbs and the heavy throbbing in the back of his head, neither of which are there when he's dosed up so... Breakfast, then medicine. Then... Well, see where the day takes him, he supposes. 

She gives him a smile back, unaware of the silent plan he'd made for himself. He feels terrible for deceiving her; she's always been on his side, supported him, understood him where others - even Obi-Wan - didn't. He almost wants to tell her, bring her into the secret, but he can't, not just yet, possibly not ever. She doesn't need to know he needs to sink to this level in order to banish the demons Omega left inside of him, she doesn't need to know his weakness. "I'm glad," she says. "Really glad." She sounds like she means it, and that just makes him feel worse. 

Medicine first, he decides, closing the cooling unit and heading back to his room, giving her an excuse he doesn't even remember. Then he'll feel even better, then he can start the day. It's a good plan, he decides, or it would be, but... "Kriff," he mutters to himself. He's gone through the entire stash, all of it, and so he needs to make a new plan. Ahsoka is in the kitchen and will ask questions if he leaves now, so he opens his bedroom window and climbs down the drainage pipe; nothing he hasn't done before, but this time there's an added urgency, and a sense that this truly is an act of desperation. But no, it's just an expedient way to get out of the Temple, that's all. Nothing wrong, nothing out of the ordinary. 

He heads straight to the underworld, not stopping anywhere along the way. 

\-----

He doesn't even wait to get back to the Temple before giving himself the relief he needs; a mistake, because then it seems like a few drinks wouldn't be a bad idea, and before he knows it - because time is odd and doesn't exist - he's trying to buy something from a food cart vendor and he's not exactly able to talk or stand up right and then he's somehow back at the Temple and then he's sleeping.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin goes before the Council and Ahsoka keeps trying to help.

Ahsoka doesn't have much use for the Holonet news, normally. It's a lot of propaganda most of the time and it tires her immensely. Sometimes it feels like she and her Master and Master Obi-Wan have to live up to the hype and the pressure of that makes her uncomfortable. She knows it bothers Anakin too - the Hero With No Fear. It's not hard to see that he holds himself up to that standard, believes he needs to be exactly what the Holonet says he is. She's sure that's part of why he's having such a hard time letting her and the Healers help him now; he's got a lot of pride. So, because she hates having to hear report after report of the dashing heroics of The Team, she tends to leave the Holonet off. Today, though, she's a little bored, a little stir-crazy, and Anakin has gone back to bed so she doesn't even have anyone to talk to.

The first few minutes are commercials for a variety of useless devices she's not sure why anyone would buy. Then the reporters reappear and what she sees makes bile rise in her throat. "Hero With No Fear, Anakin Skywalker," one of them says as a video plays - it's Anakin, clearly, in the lower levels- she thinks she recognizes the area from a mission - and he's completely out of it. From the vid she can't tell if he's drunk or drugged up or both (the reporter is saying he's both, but she knows how easily things can be twisted by the media), but this is not flattering. This is not good, not good at all. "Can we trust the Republic is in the right hands?" one of the reporters asks, mentioning that the Council hasn't made any official statement about Anakin's behavior - probably because they had no idea until today. And neither had Ahsoka, but suddenly these past few weeks are making a lot more sense.

She storms into Anakin's room, not bothering to knock, and throws open the blinds. "Wake up!" she bellows at him, top of her voice, very close to screaming and crying and pounding his chest because WHY would he do something so destructive? When she'd made it so clear she was willing to help? Didn't he CARE? "ANAKIN!" No Master, no Skyguy. 

Anakin moans and rolls over. "Go 'way, Snips," he slurs, burying his head deeper into the pillows. She feels a deep, cold, spike of anger and she forces herself to release it.

"I'm not going away," she proclaims firmly. "The Holonet is really interesting this morning. Funny little report about the fact the Republic's best General is... is..." She's shaking in fear and rage and she KNOWS those are dangerous feelings for a Jedi, so she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "Is taking drugs," she concludes. 

Anakin sits straight up. "What?!" he exclaims. "No, that's not..." He shakes his head desperately, but his eyes are glassy and bloodshot, and he looks like the walking dead. "That's not entirely true," he finishes weakly. 

"Well what IS the truth, then?" she demands, crossing her arms over her chest, glaring, the desire to hit him burning through her. 

He pushes his hands through his hair, sending it sticking out in every direction. "It's... I... I can't... The thoughts don't go away, and I should be better by now. I can't... I can't stop thinking about it, and sometimes it feels like it's still happening, and the only thing that made me feel better there was what Omega gave me, so I thought..." It's the most he's said to her since they'd returned from Telos and she supposes it all makes sense. Still...

"This is bad, Anakin," she murmurs. She doesn't demand he tell her why he didn't trust her, she doesn't scream at him for putting himself in danger. That won't help anything, and he's FINALLY talking to her. "You're probably going to have to talk to the Council." Maybe the Council doesn't need to know how long this has been going on, she thinks. Let them think it was a one-time bad decision. Then Anakin won't get in as much trouble, and she can work on helping him. Yeah... okay, she can do that. "I can help you."

He looks at her, trembling as badly as she is, and nods. "Okay," he says. "Okay."

\-----

As she'd expected, Ahsoka finds herself at Anakin's side in the middle of the Council chambers not an hour later. Her Master doesn't seem nervous, but he does seem despondent, listless, almost completely apathetic. The turmoil she senses in the Force is the antithesis of how he's presenting himself, though, so she keeps close to him. She's not sure how helpful her presence is for his emotional well-being, but she has to at least try. "Explain yourself," Windu orders, the collective eyes of the Council all trained on them.

Ahsoka almost shrinks away from the scrutiny, but reminds herself that if she's going to be of any help to Anakin, if she's ever going to be able to get him to take the Mind Healers seriously, to do what he needs to do in order to heal properly, she needs to keep him from getting kicked out of the Order first. "Masters, forgive me, but what happened last night was entirely isolated," she speaks up. "Except for then, Master Skywalker hasn't been out of my sight since we got back. I swear it never happened before -" a lie, and she shields so, so carefully - "and I PROMISE it won't happen again." What she hopes isn't a lie. 

Windu levels his glare at Anakin. "What do you have to say for yourself?" he asks. "Or should I direct THAT question to your apprentice as well?" Anakin flinches almost imperceptibly but Ahsoka catches it. 

Her Master clears his throat. "I... I have been trying to get over the last mission on my own, and I realized last night that I can't. I apologize for my arrogance and pride, and... I would like help. Please." 

It's a very good act, Ahsoka has to give him that. She wishes she could believe a word of it, but the Council seems convinced because they are dismissed soon after, with Anakin making promises Ahsoka isn't certain he has any intention of keeping. Well, she's going to MAKE him keep those promises. She's going to demand he help himself. She doesn't want to think of what the consequences will be if he doesn't; for her, for him, for the Galaxy as a whole. Though she would never admit it, she's terrified. 

\-----

Anakin heads to his bedroom immediately upon their return to the apartment, and Ahsoka has to put herself physically between him and the door to get him to slow down. "Hold on a second," she says firmly, holding up her hands. "First thing's first." She's been thinking about this since this morning, about what to do once the truth was finally out in the open. "Whatever you've got in there is getting flushed." Because she knows him, knows that though he generally means what he says, and means well, and she believes he's using purely because he doesn't think he has any other outlet... Well, she knows his gut reaction is probably to shut it all out again, and she's not going to have that happen. 

"Come on, Snips," he growls at her, rolling his eyes. "You think I'm really that stupid?" He tugs at a strand of his hair, an uncharacteristic tic she's seen more and more of since he emerged from the bacta. "I wasn't messing around," he adds. "I meant it when I said I was sorry." Not that he meant what he'd said when his word were 'I need help', she notices. 

She crosses her arms over her chest. "Then we shouldn't have a problem, should we?" she challenges. 

She's not sure what she'll do if he challenges her back; she's not exactly trying to gear up for a major altercation, and even if she was, she's not sure which of them would have the upper hand at this point. Luckily, though he squares his shoulders and clenches his jaw and glares at her like she has betrayed him, he says, "No. We shouldn't." It's not submission, but it's not a fight either. 

She waves open his bedroom door and steps in, recoiling slightly as the smell of bodily fluids - there's a bucket next to the bed and the sharp ammonia-like scent of urine graces the bedclothes - hits her. "Master..." she murmurs slightly and Anakin has the good grace to look embarrassed. Her first order of business is to strip the bed and empty the bucket of vomit into the toilet, spraying air freshener liberally throughout the room. Then she gets down to business, rooting out his stash, demanding he admit to all of it, making him watch her as she gets rid of vial after vial, the crystalline spice peppering the water like glitter. 

"That... should be it," Anakin says after nearly a half hour, voice somewhat strangled, muscles trembling. "I..." He has to clear his throat and start over, what he's gearing up to say obviously difficult. "I'm going to get sick," he says when he can finally find the words. "Hope you're ready for that."

"You can go to the Healers," she counters quickly. "I'm sure they have detox protocols..." She hadn't even thought of the possibility he'd need such a thing, but she supposes she should have seen it coming. 

He shakes his head. "They don't," he tells her and she's not sure why he knows that well enough to protest so vehemently. "It'll be the same whether I'm here or there."

Ahsoka frowns, their new dilemma picking at her. "You should go anyway," she says finally. "Get checked out and all." Besides, he might be wrong about their ability to help, and she'd rather Vokara Che be watching over him until Ahsoka knows he's well again.

Anakin looks like he's going to protest yet again, but then his shoulders slump and he sighs. "Fine. Whatever." It's not exactly the enthusiastic agreement she'd hoped for, but it's something.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin goes to the Healers and all hell breaks loose.

Heart pounding, chest aching, hands trembling, Anakin reluctantly crosses into the Halls of Healing, all but herded by his high-handed apprentice. He'd truly been hoping for a reprieve after the Council meeting, had honestly expected Ahsoka to understand, to support him. And she is, he supposes, trying to get him clean, but that doesn't solve the problem. Detoxing won't keep the nightmares from creeping up on him, won't keep the memories from descending when he least expects it. That's what he's supposed to be seeing the Mind Healers about, of course, but their advice has always been to release such things into the Force, and the fewer people who are poking around in his mind, the better. 

Vokara Che meets them, frowning deeply at him. "I thought you'd learned your lesson," she says, and Anakin feels a sharp stab of surprise and confusion from Ahsoka. He realizes with some guilt that he hasn't told her the whole truth of his history with Omega, the previous forays into mind altering substances, forays that he'd gotten over, suppressed, recovered from years before she'd come along. Still, maybe his stance on talking about his past needs some adjustment if he's really going to do this, if he's going to allow her to remain by his side. 

"I am a slow learner," he murmurs, with a bleak humor he doesn't feel. He IS a slow learner, he must be, because why else would this keep happening, why else would he keep making this same mistake over and over again? 

Vokara Che gives him a look, then asks Ahsoka to wait outside. His Padawan resists, but Vokara Che is a formidable opponent and soon they are alone. "What are you taking?" she asks, tone a bit more gentle than he'd expected.

"Uhm, pyrepenol," he replies, rubbing his arms in an attempt at quelling the incessant itching. "A few times a day." A few times a day could mean a lot of things; he's not ready to tell her flat out that for him it means as soon as the previous dose wears off. He's sure she can guess. 

The Master Healer huffs. "Anakin." It's a reproach, a scolding. "We could have helped you before it got this far, you know." He knows. He may be stupid, but he's not that stupid. "Still," she continues, "I'm not surprised your pride has once again gotten in the way of your well-being." 

Anakin tightens his grip on his upper arms. "I don't like this," he informs her. "I don't want this."

She ushers him into a private room, takes his pulse, peers into his eyes. "Again, I'm not surprised," she says. "I know it's difficult for you, but you need to submit to the Force now, Anakin." 

It's not meant to sound taunting, but all Anakin can hear is Omega's voice: "Where is your Force, Jedi? Will it protect you now? I think not." He flinches.

"What is it?" Vokara Che asks, clearly sensing his distress. She holds her hands out as if she's going to touch him, and Anakin turns away, squeezing his eyes closed, tears of shame burning beneath his lids. "Anakin?"

"You know what he did," Anakin growls, giving her his back. "And I can't forget. It keeps... I should be BETTER than this!" He lashes out with the Force, shaking equipment, shattering the glass doors. It feels so good to let go, to give form to his anger and fear. The Dark Side, he's been warned time and time again, but he needs to do SOMETHING, because everything is flying out of control and he hates being out of control. 

For her part, Vokara Che doesn't even flinch at his outburst. "We can help you," she repeats, and Anakin feels the tendrils of a sleep suggestion along the edges of her words. He fights against it, but she's had practice against Jedi just as stubborn and strong-willed, and before he knows it, he has succumbed to the magical soothing cadence of her words. 

\-----

Anakin spends the first two days of his convalescence stoically curled up in the blankets of his bed, refusing to admit his discomfort, refusing to discuss the hallucinations that keep him awake, that make him scream in the night until the Healers come running. He can't eat, so he makes rude comments about the quality of the food. He can't sleep, so he complains about the noise and light levels. Anything to deflect attention from him, from his sweating, shaking, itchy, barely-aware-of-reality misery as the pyrepenol inexorably works its way out of his system. 

It's pure misery, and Anakin is no stranger to physical suffering. It's not the pain he's having a hard time with; he's dealt with worse, recently. It's the fear, the all-encompassing terror that slithers out of him when it thinks no one is looking, that whispers in his ear, that tells him that he will never get better, that he's never going to be able to go back to the field, that he will be stuck here, wallowing in his agony, forever. 

'Don't you deserve it?' Omega asks, circling him, pulling his legs apart and stroking his thighs. 'Don't you deserve the pain? For what you've done? For what you've let me do?' The man smirks and grabs Anakin's cock. Anakin gasps, moans, tries to curl away but Omega has him restrained, and he can't get away. 'You love this, Anakin, just admit it. You miss me. Don't you?'

"No," Anakin moans, pulling at the restraints. "No! Leave me alone!" He can't stop the scream that tears itself from his throat. He manages to get out of the restraints - he's not sure they were ever really there - and springs up from the bed, crossing the room in two short strides. Omega follows him, grabbing, taunting, and Anakin finds himself opening cabinets, drawers, everything, trying to find something to ward off the attacks. 

His fingers wrap around a scalpel - probably an oversight, but he's pretty sure this drawer was locked before he pried it open - and he aims it towards Omega. His tormentor simply laughs, and Anakin doesn't know what else to do. It needs to stop, this all needs to stop, and soon he's opened up scar on his arm, the bite marks replaced by a quick, sharp, flick of his wrist.

Blood pools down his arm, into his hand, onto the floor, and he watches. He watches until his eyelids grow heavy and it's time to finally fall into sleep. 

\-----

Ahsoka's initial response is to shout obscenities at Vokara Che. She was SUPPOSED to be keeping Anakin safe! She was SUPPOSED to protect him! She composes herself, apologizes, and wipes one arm across her eyes because they burn with unshed, desperate tears. Two days, two kriffing days out of her sight and Anakin is getting blood transfusions and is sedated and restrained and has a Force suppressor cuff on because Ahsoka had thought the Healers were better equipped to help him than she was. 

She feels cold, a slimy discomfort working its way under her skin and through her gut and even though she knows Master Obi-Wan is in the middle of hunting down the man ultimately responsible for her own Master's condition, she calls him anyway, not caring if the Council would want her to or not. 

"You need to come back," she says without preamble as soon as Obi-Wan's image appears. "We need you here." Obi-Wan, despite being absent during this whole ordeal, would know what to do. Would make things better. Of course he will, he has to, he always does. 

Obi-Wan's brow furrows slightly. "I've very nearly tracked down Omega," he says. "Surely you..."

She blurts it all out in a rush, Anakin's nightmares, the delusions, the drug use, and now the suicide attempt and by the end she is panting and sobbing because NONE of what she's just said matches up with the man she knows, the man who has trained her and guided her and protected her. Not one word of it, and it hurts because she should have been more attentive, should have pushed harder at the beginning of all of this. 

And all Obi-Wan can say is a soft, "Oh," as if she's given him a brief jab in the gut. She feels her anger rise again - so unbecoming a Jedi and so like her Master - and she wants to scream because it feels like she is the only one who cares if Anakin Skywalker lives or dies - Anakin himself included. Oh, she's already contacted Padmé, who seems distraught but otherwise impotent to help - she's not exactly welcome in the Halls of Healing. And that leaves Ahsoka and Obi-Wan, but Obi-Wan looks like he's about to refuse to come back and if he does, Ahsoka isn't entirely sure what she needs to do from there. "Ahsoka I..." 

"You HAVE to come back!" she exclaims, clenching her hands at her sides, jutting her chin out in haughty defiance. "Anakin NEEDS you!" And though she knows the Jedi stance on attachment, she knows too the bond between the two men who have become her entire galaxy. Surely Obi-Wan won't ignore that, surely he will come to his senses.

Obi-Wan lowers his head and takes a deep breath. "I can be back in three days," he says, finally, and cuts the connection.

Ahsoka sits, staring at the empty space his hologram had vacated, realizing the tone she'd taken for reluctance had been something else entirely: regret, and grief. Still, the promise of having someone else here to help her help Anakin outweighs everything else, and she breathes out a deep sigh of relief. Help is coming, and Obi-Wan will fix this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> life is about to start happening, so updates might be a little more spaced out.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan returns, the truth comes out, and the Council weighs in. Sort of.

Obi-Wan actually returns in a day and a half; Ahsoka isn't sure what laws of space and time were broken or how, and Obi-Wan characteristically doesn't comment on the speed. Instead, he asks her what happened, and she tells him again, this time more controlled, more measured, because it won't do Anakin any good for her to be hysterical and unable to be his advocate. She follows him into Anakin's room, clasping her hands together in front of her, then hugging herself, and then remembering to try and act like a Jedi Padawan and dropping her arms to her sides.

She watches Obi-Wan approach, lay a hand on Anakin's brow, bow his head. "I'm so sorry, my friend." The words aren't meant for Ahsoka, she knows, and she knows this is a moment she doesn't need to bear witness to, but she stays where she's planted, and sees Anakin's fingers twitch ever so slightly. "I nearly caught him," Obi-Wan continues, voice low. "I nearly did, Anakin, and I will. He won't escape forever." Ahsoka is sure Omega's time is coming; Master Obi-Wan can be just as driven and ruthless as her own Master, though no one would ever admit it. She has no doubt that once Obi-Wan finds Omega, he will kill the man. The thought gives her an uncharacteristic sense of relief. 

She watches Anakin's fingers tighten around Obi-Wan, though he doesn't stir otherwise. "I expect you to make a full recovery, Padawan." The words are barely a whispered order, but the depth of feeling in Obi-Wan's voice is staggering. 

After what feels like a hundred eternities, Obi-Wan turns to her. "We should talk," he says, gesturing for her to follow him out of the room. "It's about time you were given some answers."

Understatement and a half, but she cuts off her usual response in exchange for following him back to their quarters. Answers, yes, and perhaps some sorely needed comfort.

\-----

By the time Obi-Wan is done explaining Anakin's full history with Granta Omega, Ahsoka feels like she's going to vomit. "I don't... I don't..." She can't speak because she's afraid if she does she's going to scream. "He never seemed..." Like he'd been raped before, like he'd struggled with addiction before, like his apprenticeship had been anything but normal. She knows about his past as a slave, about the fact his mother was murdered, but nothing like this.

Then again, she doesn't know about his past on Tatooine because of anything he's said to her and when she really thinks about it, she's not surprised this has never been shared with her before. Still... "You know him," Obi-Wan murmurs. "I think we all - Anakin included - felt he had recovered."

And maybe he had, but the reality she's living in now is akin to a nightmare. "Master," she says softly, almost ashamed of herself, "I'm afraid." She's been afraid before, but this isn't a battle and it isn't something she can foresee the end of and worst of all, Anakin isn't by her side to help her through it. 

Obi-Wan bows his head. "So am I," he admits. 

\-----

Days drag into a week and Ahsoka finds herself at a loss. The Council assigns her to help out with Youngling classes, an attempt to re-focus her attention and keep her from dwelling on her Master's condition, no doubt. Every time she gets a comm, she's certain it's going to be the Council finally telling her she's being reassigned. 

"I promise I will not allow that to happen," Obi-Wan assures her when she haltingly, hesitantly, expresses her worry over her place should Anakin's recovery take longer than the Council deems appropriate. Because Anakin is still not awake, though the Healers seem at a loss as to why.

For some reason, his assurances don't make her feel any better.

\-----

'Good little slave.' The voice is persistent. Though not loud, it echoes through his head as though it has been amplified a thousand times over. Anakin moans, struggling to emerge from the fog that has descended on his brain. It's impossible to open his eyes, and every time he tries to move his arms or legs he is met with resistance. 'You really thought you'd escaped, didn't you,' the voice continues. 'You really thought I would give you up so easily.'

There's the press of a hand against his chest and someone says, 'Shhh, it's okay,' but it sounds like something else. He knows he's not dead because he remembers Ahsoka screaming. He's not dead because he's sure Obi-Wan was holding his hand not long ago. He's not dead because if neither of those things were real, there's a very good chance he's still locked up somewhere, still at the whim of Granta Omega, and none of the past few weeks have really happened. 

The idea that his mind has really and truly shattered doesn't bother him as much as he'd expected it to. It just means that maybe the agony won't be as bad anymore, especially if he can so easily pretend he's back at the Temple. Not that what he'd experienced at the Temple had been pleasant or easy, but at least it isn't this. At least he was free, even if all he was free to do was make his own terrible mistakes. "Leave me alone," he moans. He just wants to be left alone. He just wants to feel better. He just wants... freedom. He knows he's never going to get any of those things, but he can ask. 

"Anakin?" And that's Obi-Wan's voice, but Obi-Wan can't possibly be here, just like Ahsoka can't be here, like Kix and Coric and Rex hadn't really been there. None of this is real, and Anakin lets himself weep.

\-----

Obi-Wan feels his breath hitch just a bit as Anakin regains awareness just long enough to whisper "leave me alone". Just long enough for his eyes to flick open for a brief moment, then close again, tears squeezing out from behind his eyelids. He should have been here. Should have seen this coming, or at least should have sensed things weren't right. But for all he has lectured Anakin about letting his emotions cloud his judgement, Obi-Wan too is guilty. He'd let his determination to bring down Granta Omega once and for all (but revenge isn't the Jedi way) blind him to what Anakin truly needed. Anakin didn't need to be left alone while Obi-Wan chased shadows, and it certainly hadn't been fair to Ahsoka to leave her in such a tenuous position. Not fair to Anakin that his Padawan has witnessed the messy landing following the fall. 

"I'm so sorry, Anakin," Obi-Wan says softly, brushing the tears away with the pad of his thumb. "I'm so sorry I didn't kill Omega the first time. I was so sure..." And truly the years had made him even more complacent because if Omega hadn't resurfaced immediately, certainly he never would. He knows, logically, that he could not have anticipated this, could not have realized the man who had once been their greatest enemy (and is now, again) would return, that he would have retained his sick fascination with Anakin even after his supposed death. Obi-Wan could not have known, but he still knows this is his fault. 

It is not the Jedi way to dwell on what cannot be changed, however, and nothing could possibly be gained through inaction. It's a purely Anakin-type sentiment, the desire to move, to make right something gone so horribly wrong. "You're rubbing off on me," he tells Anakin ruefully.

He finds himself wishing it had been Dooku or Grievous who had taken Anakin prisoner, that the Separatists had been the ones responsible for his captivity. Because even in their own methods of cruelty, at least Anakin would have had a fighting chance to have a normal recovery. To have escaped on his own accord, even. Omega had always been a weakness, a temptation, from the very moment the man had first come into their lives and even now with Anakin grown and matured, Omega's tactics were still devastating. 

Perhaps even more so, now, because Anakin has grown so strong and so prideful. So unwilling to accept limitations or setbacks, so wary of anyone who seems too interested in his well-being. Where, Obi-Wan has to wonder, had that distrust sprung from? What injury had he caused Anakin to make him so reticent to get help from sources outside of himself?

"I'm afraid," Mace Windu says, coming up behind Obi-Wan almost silently, arms tucked into opposite sleeves of his robe, face impassive, "that this may have resulted from an error in judgement by the Council." Obi-Wan whips his head around; the Council does not admit to error, not ever in so many words, at least. "We did not sense how sick Skywalker truly is. If we had..." Pause, head tilted. "If I had, I would have done things differently. Not left him to his own devices or those of his Padawan. I came to apologize for letting it go this far, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan blinks, not entirely certain of what he's hearing, and not entirely certain why it's being directed towards HIM. "Perhaps apologize to Anakin," he suggests with no animosity. Anakin's choices are not the Council's fault, though he is grateful for Master Windu's steadying presence. He sighs. "My apologies, Master," he says, knowing he's coming off as terribly rude.

Windu shakes his head and pulls up a chair beside him with a casual flick of his wrist and the Force. "No need," he assures Obi-Wan. The Korun Master spends a long moment looking down at Anakin, a curious expression on his face. "I understand what you are going through, Obi-Wan," he says finally. "When Depa lost herself, I felt helpless. I felt I had lost part of myself as well." 

Everyone in the Temple knows the story of how Master Windu's former apprentice had gone mad in the jungles of Harun Kal, knows that she had been vegetative for months after her return, knows that she is now enough recovered to have a Padawan of her own. Obi-Wan knows these things, but he's never heard Master Windu speak of them directly. "What happened to Depa wasn't your fault," Obi-Wan replies softly. "What has been done to Anakin, what he's suffering now..."

"Is not your fault either," Windu says, firmly. "Nor is it Skywalker's. Omega is nothing short of a monster, and while I know things would have been different if Skywalker had followed the Healers' orders in the first place, I sense that the ultimate outcome may still have been the same." He leans over and puts a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "He's alive, and that's what matters. Everything after this is... details." There's the gentle pressure of a squeeze on his shoulder and then Master Windu stands. "I am at your service if you need to talk," he offers. "Any time."

Obi-Wan finds himself too dumbfounded to speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> life stuff is happening so there may be some longer delays than usual - but I'll still try to have something at least once a week until it's done :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even when it's not clear what's going on, Anakin finds himself taking action.

\-----

The Force flits around him, insectoid, teasingly. He can grasp it in spurts but then it escapes to the other end of the room, where it stares at him out of eyes that look familiar, that look pained. "Anakin," the Force says. "You must take back your power." 

He reaches out past the suppressant, past the sedation, past the pain. He pulls the Force back towards himself, the flickering orbs of light dancing just out of reach. He extends his fingers as far as he can, glancing over to make sure he's alone in the room, and PULLS. The Force slams into his hands and he hisses as the suppressor shorts out with a painful crackling noise. 

His head is aching and his heart is pounding, but he's able to undo the restraints at his wrists and ankles with a gentle tendril of his mind, is able to quietly remove the electrodes and IV and with a flick of his finger reconfigures the med 'droid on duty to report that he is still in the room. 

Even if none of this is real, it feels like it is, and he needs to take back his power. 

\-----

"Vapaad is about finding control," Master Windu tells him, the gentle breeze in the gardens at this time of day rustling his robes. "About channeling your power."

Yes, this is exactly what he needs. Control, channeling his power. Vapaad is exactly what he needs. "Yes, Master," he says but it sounds a little distorted. Underwater, far away. The shadows are too long for the light, the sensations are all wrong. But it doesn't matter. This is what he needs. 

"You need to be mindful of your emotions," Windu says, an echo of the same lesson Anakin has heard over and over and over again since he first came to the Order. It feels different this time, because he hadn't been mindful of his emotions before and he'd suffered. Suffered greatly, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knows this isn't the progress he really wants. Still, this is where his mind wants to take him, so he lets it happen. 

"Yes, Master," he echoes himself and draws his blade.

Windu nods at him, his own amethyst blade sparking to life, making the light warp, making reality distort further. "You already know the basics. You're already a master of your form. What I am teaching you now is how to make the Darkness inside of you into a weapon of Light."

And oh, Anakin wants to learn. He needs to master this, needs to be able to harness the void and make it bend to his will. If he does that, if he succeeds in this, he can finally... What? 

What is he doing here?

He drops his lightsaber. The shadows swallow him whole.

\-----

"What do you mean he's gone?" Obi-Wan works very hard to keep his tone even, his volume down. He'd heard about Ahsoka's outburst towards Vokara Che and he has no desire to further besmirch the already less than stellar reputation of his training line. Inside, he's screaming. Anakin is gone, the monitors and life-sustaining devices attached to nothing but air, the Force suppressor a burnt and melted lump left on the pillow with purpose. 

Vokara Che looks about as worried as he's ever seen her. It's hard to shock her, he knows from first hand experience. "It happened sometime last night," she says. "He tricked the sensors somehow, but for the life of me I cannot understand how he managed to get past the suppressor." 

But Obi-Wan knows the power of Anakin's blind will, and if anyone could do such a thing, it would be his former Padawan. "It's Anakin," he says, shaking his head. "He likely panicked." Which is, really, both very like and unlike his missing friend. To all but those who know him well, Anakin maintains a high level of control over himself, manages to make his fear invisible. On the battlefield he is nothing short of a force of nature. And even in private, even with Obi-Wan, he tries so hard for a stoic Jedi ideal. But there are cracks in that veneer, and Obi-Wan knows how deeply Anakin feels everything, how his anxieties manifest into quick, thoughtless action because action is controllable, quantifiable. 

If Anakin awoke for the first time alone, Obi-Wan can easily understand why he would have taken action instead of dealing with the emotions involved.

"We must get him back here," Vokara Che says, as if Obi-Wan thought leaving Anakin to his own devices Force-knows where was an acceptable alternative. "Medically he is still unstable and mentally..." She shakes her head. 

"I will find him," Obi-Wan says with a brief bow, trying not to let the Very Bad Feeling he has overwhelm him. Yes, he will find Anakin, and will bring him home.

\-----

Granta Omega is a void in the Force, a black hole where there is normally something to sense, even if it is barest hint of life. He exists as nothing, leaves no trace of himself, and that is how Anakin knows he can find the man. He's not sure why, not really. In the muddied expanses of his mind, he's not sure if he's escaped or if he is merely looking for someone still holding him captive. He keeps finding himself leaping back and forth between realities, unable to distinguish which is true and which is merely sick imaginations. Both realities seem equally likely, both are horrifying. 

He doesn't know why he's searching, but search he does. In the back alleys of the Orange District, in the glitt dens and bordellos. Places he's sure Omega would look for HIM, places he has been very recently. Now, though, it's hard enough to piece thoughts together even without any chemical interventions. He wishes he knew, truly, what has happened to his mind. He knows he's emotional, knows he's not the Jedi ideal, but this... this is different. It feels like something has fractured inside his brain, like the Void that is Granta Omega has taken up residence inside of HIM too, and he doesn't entirely know how he's going to put the pieces back together. Finding Omega, he thinks, is the key. He's not sure why. And he's not sure how. He hopes that, perhaps, Omega will find him instead. 

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Life stuff is... happening.


End file.
